The SNOFS Project
by Silver Sniper
Summary: In which Saeki, Niou, Oshitari, Fuji, and Sengoku band together to revolutionize the tennis world as well as pursuing their quest of dominating the universe!CH.12: In which Marui is kissed, Kirihara was almost kissed, and Fuji narrowly avoided being kisse
1. Incident 1

Prince of Tennis © Konomi

Warnings: Quirks, mishaps, and above all, random

* * *

Incident One

In which Oshitari is a victim,

Atobe is employs a garden hose,

And Niou is completely out-of-character.

* * *

"You're Hyoutei's Oshitari Yuushi, right?" 

Hands full of groceries and a tennis bag slung over one shoulder, Niou Masaharu smoothly weaved in and around the crowd with no hindrance up to slightly surprised Oshitari, who wasn't exactly use to seeing Rikkai Dai players in this part of Tokyo. He had been taking and evening stroll simply because he enjoyed the nostalgic mood the sunset brought upon him. It reminded him of the old days, but more importantly, Gakuto's grocery list, which had been pressed upon him after his double's partner seemingly twisted a few degrees too far in tennis practice that day, which ultimately and unsurprisingly (because no one was _that_ bendable and it was bound to happen one day) lead to the twisting his shoulder. Atobe had been very bitter about that, muttering about the Nationals and some other things. How Oshitari eventually ended up with Gakuto's grocery list and not being the one accompanying him to the hospital (Hiyoshi was doing that along with Jirou, though for what reasons one could only speculate.) was a chain of utterly random events that did not correlate in any sort of way, and certainly don't need to be mentioned.

"Rikkai Dai's Niou Masaharu, correct?" Oshitari returned with a leisure wave before going to push up his unneeded glasses out of habit. Sure, they weren't necessary, but it doesn't take a simpleton to know that it made him look sharper. (And attract more attention from the girls as well if you really want to get in depth.) "What brings you all the way from Kanagawa to Tokyo?"

"Duh," the trickster replied with a smirk, holding both his hands to show Oshitari the plastic bags full of things. It would have been normal to bump into him like this, for it's not entirely uncommon to have people come down from Kanagawa to Tokyo to buy things. It was the said things purchased that made Oshitari raise an eyebrow at. Inside the bags in Niou's right hand were the normal things you'd expect: vegetables, fruits, medicine… all the stuff a mother would have (or force) a son to buy. However, in his other hand were bags full of gum, cakes, candy, rope, yarn, knitting needles, an array of crosses, various ties, three pairs of handcuffs, a couple of handkerchiefs, two pairs of glasses and even some packs of feminine hygiene products.

"What do you intend to do with those?" Oshitari asked. No one said curiosity was a bad thing, was it?

"Obvious, isn't it?" Niou told him. Oshitari could only blink.

"To you perhaps," he shrugged. Niou just laughed, and Oshitari felt a pang of hostility towards the boy. He didn't like to be laughed at, period. Nor did he often meet a person who actually had the ability to befuddle him. Nope, only a handful.

"Come on now, Yuushi, don't tell me you've never indulged yourself in a little mischief?" Niou teased as the two strolled down the streets. To be honest, Oshitari had never expected the trickster, whom he now saw bore a great resemblance to the Mad Hatter from Alice in Wonderland to be one to drop all honorifics so quickly. Though both knew each other very well from the other's reputation, it was the first time they had actually exchanged any words person to person, and quite frankly, Oshitari just wasn't use to hearing his name from other than those of family or ow-my-poor-shoulder-is-twisted Gakuto.

"On the contrary," Oshitari admitted with a sarcastic sigh. "Oh the joy of pranks… I rather like the thrill and the rush of adrenaline myself."

Niou smirked. "I like you. You're interesting." For the second time, Oshitari blinked.

"I don't like you. You are insulting," Oshitari said truthfully with a scowl.

"That's what Yagyuu said too, you know?" Niou replied.

"That's what my double's partner told me as well," Oshitari answered wistfully, having discovered a certain extent of understanding between him and his accompaniment. "But honestly, what do you intend to do with those?" Oshitari flashed another disdainful look at the bags being held in Niou's left hand.

"The gum and stuff is for Marui upon his demand, the knitting stuff is for Sanada he's in lack of an safe hobby, the crosses are for Kirihara to keep the bad spirits away, the ties are for Yagyuu because I shredded his last week, the handkerchiefs are for Jackal, the glasses are for Yanagi because I thought he might actually want to see life for a change, and the feminine hygiene products are for Yukimura to lighten the mood." Niou said this without any hesitation, and the words just seemed to tumble out of his lips like a rolling river. Oshitari had a sense that the boy was happy to find someone he could ramble his ideas to and siphon off the oh-so-very-ingenious (and completely distorted) plans from his head as well.

"Quite a load there," Oshitari whistled. "I'm sure your teammates would be flattered by your wonderful gifts."

"Sarcasm gets you nowhere, Yuushi, and I wasn't being anywhere near serious," Niou replied with a snicker. There is was again, 'Yuushi', so ever smoothly and plainly said. Had he not known of the Rikkai Dai player's personality, Oshitari might have been offended.

"Manners get you to a lot of places, _Masaharu_," Oshitari tossed back, making sure to emphasize the boy's given name. As he had expected, Niou's smirk grew larger. "But what are the rope and handcuffs for?"

"You're the observant one of your team, aren't you?" Niou pointed out. Oshitari pondered on this for a second. He did have to admit it was true to some extent if you count out Atobe's inhumane sense of insight. However, the boy was never much of a strategist as Oshitari (Or so Oshitari would like to say anyhow. Atobe would deny it no doubt.) and the prodigy took pride in that. "I can tell. I can see it. It's in your eyes."

For some unspeakable reason, those words sent a shiver down Oshitari's spine. He got the feeling that the longer he hung around with Niou the deeper into hell he was going to get pulled into. He wasn't entirely wrong either as he would soon come to learn.

"Since you asked so nicely," Niou went on, "the rope and handcuffs are for something… _special_ let's call it. A wonderful operation we shall embark on."

"'Let's'? 'We'? You're referring to plurals," Oshitari noted. Niou snorted.

"My intuition is never wrong," Niou sighed with an air of triumph and a hint of cockiness. "I really do like you." What happened next not even Oshitari could really anticipate. With a devilish grin and eyes sparkling of mischief, Niou, somehow, (groceries and among other things) with a quick swipe, had plucked the glasses off of Oshitari's face and hightailed into the crowd with no further words save, "You look worse without glasses. Get a new pair!"

* * *

That short and brief conversation had lingered on Oshitari's mind day and night for the days after, nearly driving him to insanity. (Can you imagine how terrifying it is to suddenly awake in the dead of night because you had been dreaming that Niou had somehow gained the knowledge and the resources necessary to mass-produce nuclear bombs? Now that Oshitari thought about it, if such a thing did happen, the world might've just as well changed the name to 'Niou-clear' bombs for the sake of it. Marvel at the stupidity of the joke.) As Atobe and Gakuto (who had made a miraculous recovery and was now back on the courts bending like an undercooked pretzel again) said, his play was slipping and he was just totally out of it. Even Shishido had remarked that the boy wasn't paying as much attention as he usually should have in class. Oshitari tried to explain, but was at a loss of words and embarrassment to spill what's really been on his mind. Then again, it could all just be the influence of the trickster, couldn't it?

* * *

"Niou-kun, what did you do this time?" A slightly exasperated and tired Yagyuu cast his doubles partner and strangely also his best friend an accusing look. It had gotten to be the two's daily routine by now. Whenever Niou was in a good mood, something bad must have happened to somebody else. It didn't take Yagyuu long to pilfer information about it from him. The boy was very keen on sharing. 

"Whatever do you mean, Yagyuu?" Niou answered with a false innocent tone. Yagyuu sighed as he swiftly snatched the pair of glasses Niou had been twiddling with out of the boy's hands. Niou seemed to take no offense as he was already quite use to Yagyuu's irritation. It was so fun to make pretty-boy frustrated.

"These lenses are flat," Yagyuu noted as he removed his own lenses and tried on the other. Niou grinned like the Cheshire cat at the chance of getting to see Yagyuu's eyes. Really, he never thought one-way glasses existed. He thought they only had that feature in sunglasses, so it really was a rare treat to see Yagyuu take off his own spectacles. (Or if Niou really wanted, he could just force them off.) He was so much easier to read that way.

"You look delicious, Hi-ro-shi-chan," Niou sighed with a teasing air, pronouncing each syllable of Yagyuu's given name with emphasis. Yagyuu shot him an impossible look before he donned his own lenses again, effectively hiding his eyes from Niou's view once again.

"I hope you're not thinking about becoming cannibalistic in the future, Niou-kun," Yagyuu said bitterly. Niou just laughed, as always.

"You know what I meant," Niou replied in a flirtatious tone, licking his lips as he gave Yagyuu a little wink. Yagyuu just sighed crossly before settling back into his own seat as the teacher came in for the morning lecture. "God, you're so easy to tease."

'Serious' was not a word to describe Niou Masaharu.

* * *

"Game, Atobe, six games to four." 

Oshitari could only blink as the match point flew past him in the form of a service ace and the commentary provided by a random second year soon after. Truth to be told, he just wasn't into the game at all, and he wasn't paying much attention as Atobe stormed to his side of the court and sent a harsh and surprising slap across his face. Well, that was one way to bring a guy back from mental limbo, though not always the most pleasant of forms as Oshitari had to admit.

"What is _with_ you these past days?" Atobe hissed as Oshitari gingerly nursed his throbbing cheek. Apparently Atobe wasn't just skilled as a tennis player, but was one hell of a bitch-slapper as well. "You have been completely out of it and quite frankly I'm _sick_ of you acting like this! Whatever it is on your mind, and don't deny it, I know it's something, just spill it! _NOW_!"

"No need to get all touchy, Atobe," Oshitari muttered for the simple fact that he just couldn't resist putting that in. However, Atobe wasn't exactly hearing impaired and Oshitari wasn't exactly all that quiet in his tone of voice, and for the second time that minute, he found himself slapped again. It wasn't very pleasant; take that from Oshitari.

"I'm done," Atobe murmured dryly as he tossed his tennis racket to Kabaji. "I need coffee."

"Coffee?" Oshitari managed to mustered through his burning (from pain) cheeks. "Wouldn't something cold like water be better?"

This comment earned the boy a glare. It wasn't just any glare, it was the all-famous Atobe Glare, which, in some ways, rivaled the trademark Tezuka Glare and even the copyright Sanada Glare. Basically, it meant that no one opposed the narcissist, unless they were willingly to deal with the consequences that came with it. What said consequences were, well, let's just say no one really had managed to get Atobe to that stage of fury… yet.

* * *

"Niou-kun, I could, in some ways, understand… _cosplaying_ each other for our match against Seigaku. I acknowledge that as a great psychological attack on their behalf and maybe even some bizarre form of bonding, but… I really… I really don't…" 

"What's that matter Yagyuu?" Niou hollered, a tone completely the opposite of that of Yagyuu's just a moment ago. Yagyuu winced. He knew all too well that Niou was doing this on purpose. "Don't you enjoy being handcuffed to your best friend?" Yagyuu grimaced. Well, at least he hadn't said boyfriend, right? He should be grateful by all means, but it was very hard doing so when everyone in the Rikkai tennis club was currently gawking at you being handcuffed to, well, your best friend. Sometimes Yagyuu wondered why he couldn't have picked a more suitable 'best friend', but there was just something about Niou you just couldn't help but not love to be around.

"Niou-kun!" Yagyuu half moaned half scolded. Niou, either out of pity or just for the hell of it to add to their little five-minute soap opera, (Yagyuu suspected the later of the two of course, though if you asked Niou, he would no doubt have objected.) dramatically, for a lack of a better word, pounced onto Yagyuu in what appeared to be an over gracious hug. Of course, Niou had forgotten (or did he?) that he was now currently chained to his 'best friend', and since the maximum distance of the handcuffs were a half foot, said hug ultimately ended up with Niou toppling on top of an alarmed Yagyuu.

"Oops, sorry," Niou answered gingerly as he heard a definitely crack that was most likely Yagyuu's glasses.

"_Niou_-_kun_!"

* * *

Somehow, oddly, Atobe had dragged Oshitari to his house after tennis practice. Oshitari could do little to object to this, for it was an unwritten rule among Hyoutei students that what Atobe wants, Atobe gets. No objections. Well, it wasn't like Oshitari was about to be objecting anyhow. Visiting Atobe's house alone was very rare unless you were Kabaji, and moreover, a pleasant treat. 

"Spill," Atobe demanded bluntly as the two sipped coffee out in Atobe's beautiful botanic gardens.

"To tell you the truth, Atobe," Oshitari began as he wearily stirred sugar into his ultra expensive cup of coffee. (Honestly, Oshitari preferred tea better.) "I really don't want it all over my pants."

At this Atobe scowled as he gingerly place down his cup. "We both know well I didn't mean that literally."

"Of course," Oshitari shrugged. "But I wanted to ask you the same question as well, Atobe. You're normally more, eh, how should we say this? _Composed_."

"My own issues are my own issues. Don't go poking your nose in them," Atobe said straight forwardly.

"But you are acknowledging you have issues yet to be resolved," Oshitari oh-so graciously pointed out with a taunting smile. Atobe look absolutely livid. But of course, did you expect anything less of Hyoutei's prodigy?

* * *

Playing doubles with Niou had its own ups and downs, Yagyuu mused. He wasn't one you'd really consider one to be placed in doubles; Jackal would have been a much better partner, (Marui? He could deal with Niou… somehow…) but even Yagyuu had to admit every match with the trickster was its own little learning experience: you never know just exactly what he was going to pull out next. However, playing with Niou had never been the easiest thing in the world, especially now, when the two were still chained wrist to wrist. (Of course, after that incident, Niou had switched to the handcuffs with a slightly long chain, two and a half meters.) 

"I got it!" Niou shouted childishly with a sadistic grin as he rushed up to the net in attempt to catch Marui's volley, dragging an unwilling Yagyuu with him.

"Niou-kun!" Yagyuu said shrilly as he felt his left hand jerk up in response to Niou's advance and pretty soon his whole body following in suite, tripping to the ground as his tennis racket slipped out of his hand and his glasses (always keep extra pairs) flying off his face at impact. Niou, surprisingly, had remained upright through the whole thing and had even managed to get a return ace on Marui and Jackal.

"Sorry," Niou offered sheepishly as somewhere offset, Sanada gave a frustrated sigh as Kirihara broke out in an uncontrollable fit of laughter. Yagyuu could only curse his luck… and Niou. "But Hiroshi-chan, you have such pretty eyes."

"_NIOU-KUN!_"

* * *

"You know it's just a _little_ hard to wash your hair with a _garden hose_, Atobe." 

So after purposely dumping his head of coffee onto Oshitari's head, it was only natural courtesy for Atobe to make him rinse it to get all of the unpleasant liquid off. Atobe didn't feel like sharing his shampoo with the other, and still in a prickly mood, he had tossed Oshitari a garden hose with no verbal inputs added. Oshitari knew that it wasn't going to get any better than that, and obediently did as he was instructed… or by implied instructions anyhow. Atobe watched with slight amusement. Rich boys weren't use to the other ways, were they?

* * *

"Niou-kun, honestly…" Yagyuu found no will to continue his sentence. In fact, he barely had any will to be alive at all. You'd think Yagyuu would be use to Niou's quirks and insane ideas, but there was just no possible way a living person could adapt to his nature. It was too… erratic. 

"Wait, I'm _sure_ the key is here _somewhere_!" Niou muttered as his left hand rummaged his tennis bag for the key to the handcuffs. Unfortunately, they appeared to have been lost, or Niou might've just simply 'misplaced' it. Yagyuu was infuriated. "Eh, nope! Not in here either. Guess we're chained until further notice," Niou announced a little bit too happily to avoid suspicion. But either way, suspicion was upon him whether he liked it or not.

"NIOU-KUN!"

"So… wanna go to my house?"

* * *

By now Oshitari had already gotten out as much coffee as possible and had followed Atobe back to his mansion. Of course, a change of clothing was provided because the captain would simply not allow the other to enter his palace soaking wet. 

"We've been getting completely off-track," Atobe said spitefully as he closed his bedroom door behind him. Oshitari winced from his captain's king-sized (actually, probably even larger) bed with the satin bed sheets, etcetera, etcetera… Oshitari didn't even know half the materials used, thought by the looks of it, they were all unimaginably expensive and probably imported from some foreign country.

"Really? I didn't think there was a track we were taking to begin with, Atobe," Oshitari kindly pointed out, which earned him a glare. "I thought the two of us had just been randomly scouting out the unsettled frontier without a map nor road."

"Touché, Oshitari," Atobe told him as he took as seat on one of his elegant chairs thrice over. Actually, you probably wouldn't even call it a 'chair'. No, 'chair' was too simple and dull to describe what Atobe was sitting on. "You think I brought you hear to chat for the joy of it?"

"Yes," Oshitari said, trying to see how far the line was drawn. "Well, actually, I thought you dragged me over so you could get the pleasure of dumping coffee on me and then watching me get soaked with the garden hose, to tell you the truth."

"Very funny," Atobe sniffed. "No, I dragged you over hear to discuss your issues you've been having with paying attention this week."

"You sound like my math teacher," Oshitari remarked, "and for your information, I am not having issues with paying attention this week. Why do you even bother with these things?"

Atobe gave an exasperated sigh as he tossed Oshitari a tennis ball from his desk. (Or whatever it is you called it with all its… expensiveness.) "I am your captain, and I am entitled to stick my nose into your business."

"But first, let's talk about yours," Oshitari smirked, something that was occurring to him a lot more often and easily these past few days. "You played Tezuka, right?"

Ungracefully and uncharacteristically, Atobe, upon hearing 'Tezuka' literally choked on the glass of water (yikes… they must like to drink a lot of liquid…) he was sipping on and tumbled out of his 'chair' trying to sooth his hacking. Oshitari raised an eyebrow. Score: fifteen-love.

"So you did, I take it," Oshitari went on. Atobe sent him a warning glare, one which Oshitari paid no heed to. "And by your bitterness and short-temper, I suspect that you lost."

Thirty-love.

"I didn't loose!" Atobe hissed.

Forty-love.

"Oh, of course you didn't," Oshitari said sarcastically. "He just scored more points than you-"

Let's call it game, though for the third time that day, Oshitari found his cheek burning with pain. Really, at the rate this was going, he was going to have to schedule a dentist appointment. …But at least they were making progress, weren't they?

* * *

"And that's the reason why he'll be living here until further notice… unless you're going to invite me to your house, Yagyuu?" 

Yagyuu could only shut his eyes and try to think 'positive thoughts', hopping that it might, even momentarily, slash Niou from the corners of his mind. However, such a thing was quite hard to do, especially when the person was chained to you and happily pulling you along to his room. The only 'positive' thing Yagyuu could fish out was that Niou's parents weren't at home that day, and his older sister had gone to attend a slumber party. However, by the way Niou was talking, you'd think his little brother here actually cared.

"Haru nii-chan! What are we eating for dinner!"

"I don't know. Yagyuu's cooking."

And this was one of the times Yagyuu Hiroshi really just wanted to _murder_ his doubles partner.

* * *

"Now _this_ is the reason I dragged you over to my place." Atobe gave a triumphant smirk, towering over Oshitari, who was heavily panting on his knees behind the net, a tennis ball resting but a couple feet away. Even though it was a crushing defeat of six to two this time, Oshitari couldn't help smirking. It was hard to explain, but it was like a kind of thrill he'd get every time he faced a worthy opponent. Sure, he faced Atobe here and there, and he just played a set with him earlier that day. However, there was something different about his play from this afternoon versus this morning that Oshitari couldn't help but feel jovial about. 

"You know, we should play more often," Oshitari remarked as Atobe pulled him up. The boy just shot him a queer look, one that can only be described as 'Atobe-ish'. Oshitari returned it with a genuine smile.

"You're asking to get crushed again?" Atobe scoffed.

"No, I just…" the boy trailed off with a soft chuckle and a small smile. Atobe couldn't seem to register this kind of behavior, as he was use to getting snapped at when he dominated his opponent. He found it even stranger as Oshitari brushed past him giving him a pat on his shoulder before disappearing for good. Atobe frowned. No one ever ditched 'ore-sama'.

* * *

"Yagyuu? Yagyuu? Hey, are you okay?" 

"…Niou-sempai, I think you killed him…"

"Shut up, Kirihara, I didn't kill him."

"Niou-sempai, last time I checked, nail polish and hair gel weren't edible."

"Well, they never said on the label that it wasn't!"

"…Niou-sempai…"

And Yagyuu Hiroshi cursed all things to why a person named Niou Masaharu ever existed in such a world as this one.

* * *

Déjà vu… That was the sense that Oshitari had gotten that day. After a couple more steps down the bustling streets, the teen suddenly stopped as he realized that he had been on the same one exactly one week ago. He cringed as a single word, a name, came to mind. How could it have slipped his mind? 

Oshitari glanced back suddenly, for what reasons only God knows. Perhaps he was expecting to see a tiny bobbing head of whitish blue amidst a crowd of commoners, a speck of vanilla in chocolate ice cream. A strange feeling came over him then, one he didn't like all too well. For a moment, he firmly believed that Niou would be there-

"Waiting around the next corner. Read your mind, didn't I, Yuushi?"

Oshitari gave a startled jolt as he stopped inches before toppling over the shorter boy, whose infamous smirk danced playfully on his lips as always. This time, he was free of any bags, save the tennis bag that was slung over his left shoulder, allowing his arms to be crossed in an almost commanding and bossy manner. Oshitari could barely utter a word.

"Here, brought you a present." With a swift movement, Niou grabbed Oshitari's wrist with one hand, and with the other, placed a fluorescent tennis ball into his palm. (Oh yes, Niou had _miraculously_ managed to _somehow_ come across the key.) A slight pang of discomfort overcame him as Niou's stone cold fingers wrapped around his wrists, one which the boy picked up immediately from just one glance at Oshitari's eyes. As if to tease him even more, Niou let his grip gently drop from Oshitari's wrist to his hand, lacing together their fingers, dragging him along with a tight squeeze and that everlasting smirk. No matter how Oshitari tried to extricate his hand from that vice-grip, Niou didn't relent.

Oshitari could only try to comprehend the other.

* * *

"Who would ever have suspected a tie? Heh…" 

Gasping for breath with his hands on his thighs, Niou still managed to flash Oshitari a smirk, who was on the other side of the net basically doing the same things Niou was doing, trying to catch his breath. The two had indulged themselves in a grueling five-set match game of tennis, and both were absolutely exhausted from the challenging set. Neither had ever encountered an opponent with a play style quite like the other. It was more of a game of strategy and skill rather than just aimlessly hitting the ball at a corner where the opponent couldn't reach it. In the end however, it just went back to who could get more balls to land on the other side of the court. After all, that is what tennis was about when you strip down to the bare basics, wasn't it?

"It's not a tie," Oshitari managed to say between gasping breaths.

"Of course not," Niou snorted. "Both of us just managed to collapse after thirty-seven minutes into tie break."

"Point taken," Oshitari shrugged.

By now both boys had flopped onto their backs, still trying to regain a normal breathing tempo while gazing up to the heavens, which had turned to night during their long match. Neither of the two could help but smile as the stars winked at both of them, and neither of the two could help but wonder what their parents would say once they've finally returned home. What an episode that'll be.

"Heh… I was right," Niou spoke suddenly as both of their breathing slowly turned softer. "I really do like you."

"Should I be flattered?" Oshitari remarked sarcastically.

"Maybe," Niou laughed. "Hey, you free next Friday?"

"What? Yeah, I suppose…"


	2. Incident 2

Incident Two

In which Fuji tricks Tezuka into dinner,

Yagyuu is robbed,

and Saeki gets bad vibes.

* * *

It was a rare occurrence for Tezuka to be accompanying Fuji home, but this was the case that tranquil Friday afternoon. It was just after tennis practice, and both boys were currently strolling down the cement block, tennis bags swung over their shoulders with leisure. Fuji had an inquiring pout knitted onto his lips, and Tezuka seemed a bit too edgy for the prodigy to suspect that it had something to do with school, or even tennis in that case. After all, if Tezuka had issues with school (which Fuji highly doubted the genius would) or the tennis club, he'd go straight to Oishi, who, even Fuji admits, was a lot trustworthier than him. 

Despite his angelic look and that smile that could literally make you drop dead, Fuji Syusuke was no angel descended down earth, and if you knew him well enough, you'd know well of the devilish things he was able to achieve. In fact, perhaps only Yuuta, Saeki, and maybe Kikumaru and Tezuka truly knew this demon in angel's skin. His motives were always hidden inside his closed eyelids, and when you do spy his brilliant cerulean eyes, you wish you hadn't, just like Tezuka did now. Anymore brilliant and the taller boy would've had to succumb to the fearful allure of Fuji turned siren.

"So… what did you want to talk to me about, Tezuka?" The prodigy was in an especially good mood that day, Tezuka noted. He really should have rethought his choices.

"Well, actually, I…" Tezuka trailed off— rare for the boy do so. Usually his sentences always ended with an exclamation point or a period, but never ellipsis. Fuji was amused to no end. It was always a treat to see Tezuka… embarrassed and blushing? Must have been a trick of the light.

"Tezuka?"

"I… I actually wanted to talk to your sister, if that's not too much trouble…" Fuji stopped short, eyes peering at the Seigaku tennis club captain with a mixture of curiosity and confusion.

"Well, it depends on what you're going to ask her," Fuji said cautiously. At this Tezuka promptly adverted his eyes from the prying teen.

"It's… a school project," Tezuka admitted. Fuji didn't doubt him for Tezuka never lied. Fuji didn't demand details either, much the relief of the younger boy. (Fuji _is_ older than Tezuka, unless you want to only count the years with February twenty-ninth in them.)

"Will you stay for dinner?" Fuji asked with a soft, hopeful smile.

"No," Tezuka answered promptly. His senses told him something was going to happen if he stuck around the boy too long. Last time he 'stayed for dinner', he was force to watch Fuji make a spectacle out of Yuuta, who was unfortunately home that day. Somehow the younger Fuji in a miniskirt wasn't the most pleasant of thoughts or memories. Much to his surprise, (and dreading dismay) Fuji's smile just grew wider.

"Good. Then we can go out to eat."

Tezuka's lips immediately took the shape of a sharp frown. Well, they don't call Fuji Syusuke the prodigy for nothing. That's quick-witted thinking for you, and Tezuka got a feeling that Fuji was planning this sentence from the beginning of the conversation.

* * *

"Isn't that Seigaku's Fuji Syusuke and that… that… eh…" 

"Tezuka Kunimitsu," Oshitari informed Niou, who just gave a small shrug. He was never one to remember names of people he didn't find amusing, intriguing, or just downright fascinating. "He's Seigaku's captain. How come you remember Fuji's name and not his?"

The two had been strolling along the street illuminated by neon signs, city lights, and the surrounded by the hubbub of chatter when they spotted Tezuka and Fuji seated in an outdoor parlor. With their sharp eyes, they immediately locked onto the scene and were now observing them with interest from across the traffic-jammed street.

"I have an eye for people. Fuji's more… _captivating_," Niou said, pausing a bit before uttering the word 'captivating'. Perhaps it was to emphasize his point, or perhaps it was just stalling for the perfect word. Either way, Niou received a disdainful look from his 'date'.

"So you only remember the names of _captivating_ people?" Oshitari asked sarcastically, rolling his eyes as he emphasized the word 'captivating'. Niou just gave out one of his infamous snickers.

"Well, that's what I implied, isn't it?" Niou answered suavely.

It was then that Oshitari abruptly stopped, a look of disdain crossing his calm features. Niou blinked as he abruptly stopped at the invitation of the other, mind whirling as to try and read beyond those sharp eyes of his companion. For a while, the two did nothing but stare out into space. The minutes rolled by and just when Niou was about to say something about how stupid the two look standing in the middle of the crowded sidewalk doing nothing but staring at nothing when Oshitari suddenly snatched his wrist and started to roughly pull him along.

"Wait, we are not going to spy on Fuji and Tezuka, are we?" Niou blurted out the theory he had come up with. Oshitari stopped briefly and cast him a funny look before breaking into a devilish grin. It irked Niou to see that it was so much like his own. Oshitari wondered why the trickster seemed surprise by his implied suggestion.

"Of course we are," Oshitari answered, still pulling Niou along, which earned both of them strange looks from the people around them. "Isn't that what you called me out here for? Good timing, though. I had no idea they'd be here."

Niou pretended to think about it as a truly thoughtful expression splashed onto his face. After about a second of so, though, he dropped the act and replied with slight sigh, "Actually, I kind of wanted to play another game, but I suppose that can wait…"

* * *

It turned out that Tezuka's 'school project' revolved around gender superiority. As much as Fuji would've loved seeing Tezuka interviewing his sister, he was forced by Yumiko to wait outside her room as she and Tezuka got on with the boring process. Fuji whole-heartedly trusted that Tezuka wouldn't do anything, and he knew well enough that Yumiko wasn't completely a sitting duck either. Besides, Tezuka was probably the most girl-un-phased person Fuji knew. While boys their age were striking puberty at full force, Tezuka, aside from his appearance of a twenty-year-old, remained completely cold to the process, especially when it came to girls. Even though Fuji knew he had a soft spot of Sakuno (either that or he simply couldn't stand seeing her horrid form), other girls seemed completely irrelevant to him, but enough of that now. 

As soon as Tezuka was done with Yumiko, Fuji had dragged him out for dinner, as promised. The two were now seated across from each other sipping on their water as they watched the nightscape blur by them. Traffic seemed to be loosening up now after rush hour, but they knew that it wouldn't last very long as soon as people came out for late-night clubbing. Fuji seemed serene and unreadable as always with a lingering smile, and Tezuka rigid and cold with the frown that seemed to be permanently plastered onto his facial features. Fuji spoke first:

"It's peaceful, isn't it, Tezuka?"

"Not really," Tezuka muttered in response. He failed to see how the prodigy found the vulgar swears coming in all directions plus the horrid glare from the excess signs peaceful. Tezuka found it rather bothersome and degrading of civilization. He much rather would prefer a quiet and traditional dinner at home with his family.

"You're too formal and uptight," Fuji laughed as he poked his captain on his forehead. Tezuka found that even more disturbing than all the lights and swearing and signs combined. Fuji obviously sensed that as he gave his captain a few more pokes with a broad smile.

"So, Tezuka, what do you think the superior sex is?" Fuji asked.

"They're both equal," he grunted as he finally got fed up and grabbed Fuji by the wrist and removed his poking hand from his forehead.

"But last time I checked, 'equal' wasn't an option on your assignment." Fuji Syusuke just wouldn't be Fuji Syusuke without a little curiosity and a whole lot of snooping around. Tezuka just happened to the unfortunate victim who had plunged into Fuji's grasp of terror.

"So, Tezuka," Fuji went on, "what do you think the superior sex is?"

Tezuka knew then that he had already been dragged too deep into Fuji's Hell to escape it. The Devil's trap has been set, and Tezuka has been successfully captured. Tezuka soulfully wished he were in a different situation.

"Well…"

* * *

"Gakuto is going to throw a fit." 

Seated a couple tables down from the prodigy and the emotionless rock were Oshitari accompanied by Niou, sharing an eyebrow raising sized sundae (due to shortage of cash from one and the another unprepared to be able to buy two) as they shot the occasional glance at Fuji and Tezuka between mouthfuls of ice-cream. Niou was taking over most of the portion while Oshitari sat back and ate the occasional spoonful. The latter didn't have that much of an attachment to sweets, but Niou, who constantly was forced to buy Marui candy and the occasional float (because Jackal's diet was strictly no sugar) had grown rather use to the extreme flavor that came attached with hordes and hordes of cherries over syrup over whipped cream over fudge over ice-cream with and immensely excessive amount of sprinkles to adorn this heavenly creation.

"He's your doubles partner, isn't he? The one who has this thing against another Seigaku member?" Niou inquired. Oshitari merely nodded his head. Knowing Gakuto and his temperament, he would go into hysteria if he found out that his best friend had been hightailing off with a member of Rikkai when usually the two would walk around town aimlessly chatting about aimless things around this time. It wasn't a set appointment between the two, but it had become sort of like a routine they would follow. It took quite the amount of persuasion from Oshitari to ensure Gakuto that he really did have 'other things' without specifying just what they were. The redhead had left with a disappointed huff.

"You know, Yagyuu would throw a tantrum too if he knew that I had been coming down here."

"I thought your friend was rather level headed and calm."

"Well, I'm kind of borrowing his money…"

Oshitari scoffed as he recalled another memory that was much like this one. It was during their second year and he remembered how Atobe burst onto the courts one day screaming bloody murder at Shishido who had rang up a rather impressive bill under his name. (The shiny cards and mounds of cash the shorter boy had found dropped on the courts were so divinely _tempting_.) It was both amusing, but ultimately disturbing as the yelling was quite consuming their practice time.

Meanwhile, Fuji and Tezuka had spotted the two.

* * *

"What are those two doing here?" Tezuka muttered at one point. Immediately he wished that he didn't voice that question once he saw a flicker spark in the other. Fuji caught up on it immediately as he eyes flared into the direction Tezuka was peering at, and widened significantly as he recognized the two. 

"Let's go find out," Fuji suggested, relaxing back into his normal smiling mode. Tezuka sternly replied:

"I'm going." (home that is)

As soon as the stoic boy got up, however, he found himself going in just the opposite direction he had wished he were going. Apparently, the brunette, despite his rather delicate looking physique, was quiet strong and persistent, and Tezuka found himself heading over to the Oshitari and Niou pair under the tugging force of Demon Lord Fuji. These were the times which Tezuka truly wished that he hadn't previously wished that he wished he were in a different predicament. Suddenly, the superior sex talk didn't seem all so appalling, even to one who was strongly against prejudice and sexism.

"They're spotted us, Yuushi."

Niou generously pointed out the obvious as he licked off the last of the ice cream (how he managed was an unexplainable miracle). Oshitari nodded in response as he turned himself to face the oncoming duo, one who seemed all to eager and the other all too unhappy with reluctance and pain.

"Well, what a coincidence," Fuji greeted, though if you noticed the slight stress on the 'coincidence' part, you would know that the prodigy suggested otherwise. Niou greeted both of them with a light scoff while Oshitari seemed engaged in a staring contest with the brunette. Tezuka seemed indifferent, but Niou easily picked up on his exasperation that shone clearly through his eyes. He was glad that Tezuka's glasses weren't a one-way deal like Yagyuu's. (He has _still_ yet to find out which store sells those kinds of spectacles.)

"Fuji," Oshitari said with a push-of-the-glasses greeting.

"Oshitari," Fuji returned with his own strained smile. Past occurrences seemed to have caught up to them, mainly revolving around the match they had played before and Oshitari's 'borrowing' of one of Fuji's beloved Counter Quartet. (They had to have changed the name after the Kagerou Zutsumi, didn't they? That and Quadruple Counter is quite an odd jumbling mouthful.) Oshitari remained under his usual guise of a scheming smirk while Fuji hid under his own. It was like an electrical current had suddenly sparked between the two as they stared into the eyes of the other prodigy.

Tezuka decided to take this moment when Fuji was busy duking it out with Oshitari to take his leave. Niou could rarely care less as he offered only a tiny wave, more engrossed in the scene between Fuji and Oshitari. The Seigaku captain prayed that Fuji wouldn't make a scene, for wanting to deal with a Fuji-sized catastrophe was the last thing on his 'To-Do' list.

* * *

Somewhere far away on the road of a very different street, one with no glaring signs, peeling billboards, and honking of cars, a jolt shot down the spine of Saeki Koujirou, and it was a very disturbing jolt. The boy had felt this kind of unease just once before— when Fuji was about to attempt the impossible and it would have ended in tragedy had he not been there to put a halt to it. (Said tragedy will be disclosed until further notice.) However, he felt with the jolt an accompaniment of a shiver, which told him that this time it might just as well have been suicide if he decided to even check it out. 

"Saeki?" Aoi said very slowly as the vice-captain suddenly stopped dead in his tracks and seemed to have gone into a standing coma. "Are you alright?"

"Huh? Well, you go ahead, I have something I have to do."

* * *

In the same time at a different place, Fuji and Oshitari, once again, began another heated match of tennis (For what else were they to do?) with Niou refereeing and watching with insane delight.

* * *

And somewhere else: 

"Hiroshi! I want ice-cream!"

"Hiroshi, go buy your brother some ice cream."

"Just a minute! …Where _is_ that wallet?"


	3. Incident 3

* * *

Incident Three

In which An is a waitress,

Ryoma is teased by Fuji

And someone wins 10,000 yen

* * *

Intuition was something Saeki Koujirou saw as an omen that was always with you— you can't ignore the signs and you can't reject its existence. You can run from it, and you can hide from it, but there are some things in life whose reach extends beyond what dimensions humans can comprehend. Such a thing was what was haunting Saeki now. So after a phone call to the folks, he set out immediately to where his hunches told him he should be: wherever Fuji was. 

Though not a firm believer of fate and such, Saeki could not deny that there was a supernatural tugging at his heartstrings and a directing of his strides to where the angelic brunette resided. It led him to a tennis court, which didn't take him by much surprise. The odd sight was Fuji. He was slightly taken-aback to see his friend collapsed on the court, breathing hard, with Oshitari on the other side dittoing his position. Saeki gave it a while to let it all sink in: the sudden calling that had hit him previously, his rather abrupt trip to Tokyo, Fuji drowned in exhaustion, and the oddity of this whole situation.

"Game, set, match, Syusuke, seven games to six."

Saeki frowned as he recognized the smirking Rikkai regular, looking rather comfortable and thoroughly entertained on the sidelines. Since when was he on a first-name term with Fuji? Not even he called the boy by his first-name. However, he wasn't able to give that thought much time to process it. Niou had spotted him, and there was instant chemistry that exploded within them as their eyes locked. If there was love at first sight, then this was instant allurement at first glance, and not necessarily in a positive way either. The fuse that had ignited in Fuji and Oshitari had just sparked in Saeki and Niou.

"So," remarked Fuji rather breathlessly with a hint of a smile. "Now that you're here, Saeki, let's get a coffee or something."

"Tea," Oshitari insisted.

"Tea it is then."

* * *

A group of teenagers coming out for a midnight ramble wasn't an uncommon sight at The Café, (yes, most original, I know) but rarely were they a group that Tachibana An recognized. It took a whole lot of persuading, coaxing, and a tremendous amount of wails and begging to her parents to allow her to 'work' at a relative's café. Naturally, she wasn't getting paid for this, because her school was strongly against employment at this age, but 'helping' was never a _bad_ thing, was it? 

"Fuji-san!" An greeted with enthusiasm. "What can I get you?" She half-purposely disregarded the others for simple reasons: she has a grudge against Oshitari for associating with Atobe, she has a grudge against Niou for associating with Kirihara, and while she didn't have any sort of grudge with Saeki, she didn't know anything about him beyond his name.

"Green tea, please," Fuji told her politely. "Hot." (It would've been more sensible to have ordered something cold.) An flashed a delighted smile as she merrily skipped off to fulfill the order. Two of the forgotten didn't take this very well.

"What about us?" Oshitari inquired, quite unused to ungrateful waitresses.

"We exist, you know?" Niou added, also quite unhappy at the hostility.

"I'll have a green tea too," Saeki said. "Cold, please." An turned around, smile still in tact. She knew that this boy was Fuji's friend, and received his presence a lot better than she received the other two's. With a nod signaling that she understood, she turned around once again before disappearing momentarily into the kitchen. The other four seated themselves in a pleasant table near the window where they could observe the nightscape.

"Was it me, or was she purposely avoiding us?" asked Niou. He was use to being ignored— Yagyuu did that all the time— but by a _girl_ was a first. Though mischievous and sly, Niou knew that, no doubt, a fair portion of the Rikkai Tennis Club Fan Club (a rather redundant name; RTCFC for short) was dedicated to him. Apparently girls really dug guys like him who knew how to be tricky when he wants to, and charming when he really needs to. Tachibana An was definitely something else.

"Correction," Fuji said. "She was ignoring you two."

"Thank you for pointing that out," Oshitari said with sarcasm, though he didn't intend any rudeness. Fuji took none. Instead, he extended a slender finger and gently placed it on the other's forehead. Oshitari's sharp wit went into recoil with this sudden curveball, which left him more-or-less speechless.

"Poke," Fuji said with a devious smile. Niou held back a snicker while Saeki could only shake his head. It was a rather amusing sight for all of them; it was a spontaneous thing that Fuji dished out when no one was really expecting it. Such an act was one that Oshitari Yuushi found unentertaining, and disrespectful even. That is, if the brunette even held any sort of respect for him at all was something he could only speculate to.

"What the hell are you doing?" he demanded quietly as he took the lithe fingers of Fuji's delicate hand off of his being. Fuji looked quite amused, smiling at something that seemed as if only he knew. Saeki guessed it was something about Oshitari resembling Tezuka that Fuji found joy in spoiling. It must have been a glasses thing to the prodigy because Saeki recalled that Fuji had quite the glasses fetish within him. There was a period in time not so very long ago when Saeki remembered flipping through his old friend's recent albums and found quite an extraordinary section dedicated to such things including various shots of glasses frames and even one with himself in it donning spectacles. Fuji had an odd taste for things was what Saeki thought back then.

"Force of habit," replied Fuji with an apologizing nod as the tea arrived. An decided to let them drink in peace as she glided off to serve another incoming bunch.

"So why are you two here anyhow?" Fuji went on as he took in the relaxing aroma of the steaming drink. A wave of calmness overcame him, sending his whirling mind into a still-water lake, and as he look around, it seemed to be getting a grip on the other's minds as well. Peace and bliss.

"Intuition," Saeki replied simply. His eyes met Niou's again, and he instantly felt that the trickster would be up to something.

"Boredom," Niou supplied. Taking the moment when Saeki let down his guard for a spilt-second, he easily snatched the straw and managed to sip down half the cup before Saeki slapped him away with an annoyed look. The white-haired boy look at his cup in dismay, and silently cursed himself for having let that smile wind him down. Niou's smile was something to be reckoned with. It can reduce most girls to a puddle of goo like Oshitari's voice, but unlike the latter, his was devious and malicious in intent.

"Pure coincidence and completely random, the four of us, isn't it?" Oshitari commented as Fuji passed his cup to him. Oshitari took it gratefully, for the incident with a moody Atobe and a cold garden hose has yet to past through his main steam of thoughts. Tea was comforting in contrast to the hard caffeine that dominated coffee.

"Hmm… maybe it's fate," Fuji laughed as he took back the porcelain cup from Oshitari. His reasoning didn't seem very far off in his point of view. The four of them had a lot in common actually, and it was only going to be a matter a time before they all came together. It was probably better now during adolescence then when they were old and bitter, because no one liked to be barked at in a wheelchair.

"Maybe it's just in the eyes," Niou suggested as he once again swiped Oshitari's glasses from his face.

There was a tender moment of silence as the rest evaluated what Niou had just pointed out. (Of course, this was after Oshitari reclaimed his glasses. He wasn't stupid enough to let Niou high tail off with them for a second time.) It was true; they did seemed to have it all in the eyes. Saeki could rewind a 192kmph in slow motion, Oshitari had those uneeded spectacles that added certain sharpness to his features, Niou could spot you walking into a lamppost before you even do, and Fuji's eyes didn't need any words to describe their pure brilliance.

"You know, I think you're right," Saeki told him as he finished off the half-empty cup of tea, much to Niou's objection. The look of the latter's face said all too well that he had been hoping to get another sip out of the other's order, but Saeki didn't fall for it a second time, taking precautionary into actions.

"Hmm… I should've invited Eiji then," Fuji laughed. Everyone at the table was immediately reminded of the playful Seigaku redhead whose eyes were just about as sharp as any of theirs.

"Atobe should be here too, though I doubt he'd want to be here specifically," Oshitari added. Niou seemed to have caught the drift that just about everyone on all of the tennis teams seemed to have something going on with their eyes (like with himself and Yagyuu's one-way glasses), but this is Niou we're talking about. Niou would never suggest anything without there being a 'Plans B Through Z and One Through Nine and Beyond'.

"But do you want to know what else we have in common?" Niou tried again. "We're all bored, lonely, and single with a hoard of fans."

"True…"

And everyone was unanimous on that account.

* * *

The four of them met again by chance some two weeks later on a Sunday, though at this point, they weren't really sure if it was chance or just destiny's wish. Something seemed to be pulling the four of them together, and they weren't really sure if that was a good thing or a disastrous catastrophe waiting to happen. If asked, half would've voted on the former, and the others the latter. It's up to you to match up who chose what. 

Of course, when meeting on a street tennis court and you all just so happened to be famed tennis players of the junior-high division, there was nothing else to do than to play tennis, was there? After all, it was quite logical, and that has been their intention from the start. Saeki was over to visit Fuji and Yuuta and catch up on old times and to play a game or two. (Unfortunately, Yuuta didn't seem very keen on spending the entire day with a sadistic Fuji and a teasing Saeki. Fuji was always more sadistic when Saeki was around for reasons Yuuta would rather not really try to contemplate.) Oshitari and Niou had met up again to play that set they had missed out on when tailing Fuji and Tezuka that other night. Twelve o' clock was the golden hour, and drawing lots had placed them in the middle of a very heated double's match.

"Hey, doesn't it feel as if we're kind of out shadowed?" It was Saeki who asked this, and standing on the opposite side of the net with Niou facing the prodigy duo was quite… for a lack of a better word, intimidating. Normally, losing playing Fuji, it would just be like any other match, but with no regrets or downed feelings after the game. However, with Niou and Oshitari now in the picture, things were just a little bit more complicated, and Saeki knew that if he lost this match, he would definitely mind.

"Listen, just win," Niou advised with his trademark smirk. For the first time, Saeki took some comfort in this for he knew that Niou had something in mind. Turning back to his opponents, Saeki focused and did his part of the act.

Fuji and Oshitari proved to be very formidable players, (How many time have you heard the latter part of that clause?) and with a crowd gathering, it put even more tremendous pressure on Saeki and Niou, who were, like Saeki said, were definitely out shadowed, especially here in Tokyo, the hometown of their opponents. With all four of them having had their fair share of dabs in doubles, there were few flaws to be found in their makeshift pairs, and even fewer in each other. Oshitari and Fuji used their wits to the best of their abilities and were constantly on the offensive while Saeki and Niou who seemed to be able to read each other without glitches were returning their shots with a spice of their own flavor.

But of course, no one _really_ wants to hear all the details of a match better explained in pictures than words. To make a possible two-episode show into a five words statement, or to simply put: 'Saeki and Niou pair won' would be so much easier.

* * *

"You know, it is just completely random for you people to be at my house." 

A disgruntled boy wonder, A.K.A. Echizen Ryoma, glowered unhappily at the quartet who was currently exploring the contours of his courtyard with high interest. Saeki found the humongous bell to his fancy while Oshitari was gazing up at the trees, soaking up the serenity. Niou was perfectly happy standing in the middle of the tennis court tapping at its surface while Fuji was busy fawning over a clearly disturbed Ryoma.

"Eh? But you did say you wanted to play a game with one of us, didn't you?" Fuji pointed out as he gave Ryoma a pat on the head. Ryoma immediately slapped him away, and Fuji laughed merrily at the expression that was sewn onto the other's face.

"Fuji-senpai!"

"So, Echizen, what should we play? We can't play shougi with five people."

"I never said I wanted to play shougi with five people!"

"Then what about go? Ah, but we're one person extra and it's impolite to leave people out."

"Fuji-senpai!"

"Syusuke, stop teasing him." Everyone stopped whatever they were doing as their eyes wandered to Niou, whom it seems has taken liberties with people's names yet again. Oshitari contained a chuckle as he watched Niou begin toying with the angelic brunette.

"Quick to drop honorifics, aren't we?" Fuji replied dryly as Ryoma scurried away towards Saeki, whom, at the moment, looked like the sanest person there save himself. Of course that isn't to say that he was sane, for any person who associated with Fuji was sure to have some part of their reality twisted, (even himself as he was sadly forced to admit) but he seemed a lot more welcoming to be in near-distance with than the crafty Oshitari and the 'I-Can-Get-Under-Anybody's-Skin' Niou.

"Honorifics place an invisible wall between people, isn't that right, Ryoma?" Ryoma twitched as he heard his name mentioned. He had planned to try and stay out of the two's spat, but now he was involved, and being involved always had it's downfalls. "People in America usually call others by their first-name alone, don't they?" Ryoma nodded slowly, fearing that a verbal input might involve him more, and he definitely didn't want that to happen. "Ah, Syusuke, your fringe on your right side are 1.5 centimeters shorter than those on your left."

"…That was the whole point of this?" Ryoma asked, rather ticked off and annoyed.

"There was no point to begin with," Niou shrugged.

"Except to clog up page space," Fuji added. (which is shamefully true)

"And to lighten the tension," Saeki said.

"But your fringe on your right side does need trimming," Oshitari noted.

And Ryoma wondered how simply asking if he and Fuji could finish that match sometimes turned into this fiasco. (And of course, the question as to why they went to _his_ house in the first place will forever more remain a mystery…)

* * *

After the pointless encounter with Ryoma, the four returned once more to The Café, but the cheerful Tachibana An was currently having her hands full with a horrified Kamio and a screaming Momoshiro somewhere else, so they were instead served by a person not important enough to be worth mentioning. 

"Tea tastes so much better when you don't have to _share_." The remark came from Fuji, and everyone was reminded of the last time they had taken a stop here. A sheepish grin from Niou and an exasperated sigh from Oshitari was the closest the other two received as a 'thank-you', for they did pick up the bill last time.

Milk tea was the choice of drink for Niou today, who had fun chewing on the pearls. Oshitari had a simple green tea as did Fuji, and Saeki chose the ever popular water. In the middle of the table stood a small, simple, but delectable strawberry cake, which the four have yet to decide how to split it. (It was… how to say… rather _small_.) All in all, it was peaceful and life was good.

"You know, if we're going to keep meeting like this, we might as well set up dates for it," Oshitari said. It was true that he had taken up a liking to Niou, who was every bit of an enigma as himself, and having someone that could understand the complexity of your mind was always a good thing. Fuji he was drawn towards also, for Fuji was the one (and only one) who truly held the title of the prodigy, the one which Oshitari vowed that he would someday achieve work and toil (without all the melodrama and cheesy words of course). Saeki, though he didn't know him well, was like a relief in the heated tension between the other two, a splash of cold water to remind him of reality. Everything seemed too good for fate to have come across.

"You know, that was what I was thinking, too," Saeki second. Even though he didn't know Niou and Oshitari very well, he too felt the heated tension and knew that if he wasn't there to try and keep the peace, something deviously horrid was going to be plotted among the three.

The group thought over this during a moment of silence, and when all the above tension seemed to have finally cleared into a sky of blue, it was evident to all of them that perhaps it was to all of their advantages to do as Oshitari say instead of brooding over boredom and then meeting up by chance and then doing something completely unplanned.

"That might be interesting," Fuji said.

"Ah, but a date's going to be hard to find with practices and all…" Saeki noted. Since when did tennis practice ever _not_ dominate their lives?

"We usually get Sunday afternoons off like today," Oshitari informed them.

"So do we," Fuji said.

"Us too," Saeki said also.

"Any objections?" the three chorused.

It was now that they all turned to Niou, who had remained silent ever since the conversation began. It was either because he had something he objected to, or because he simply wished to remain mute while the others talked. Knowing the boy not to be the type to do that, the others had an inkling that he was up to something. Judging by his eyes, which were fixed to almost a piercing glare, they knew they weren't shy off of the mark.

"I don't have any objections," Niou began. "But I'm taking the cake."

A round of laughter erupted before they all dove at it, causing quite a scene and clamor in the tiny place. The boys could really care less because it felt for the first time in a long time that they had found something enjoyable other than tennis, which drove much of their lives… as did homework… and school… For now, the board was set, the pieces were in place, and all was ready to go.

Almost.

* * *

"Ah! What are you doing! You just won the contest thing they described on the box and you're throwing it away? Are you _insane_?" 

"But it's just a Popsicle stick…"

"The prize is 10,000 yen!"

"Oh? Lucky!"

No game can start without a wildcard in place.


	4. Incident 4

* * *

Incident Four

In which Sengoku joins the brigade,

Gakuto stalks Oshitari,

And Fuji dramatically faints into Eiji's arms

* * *

The four met up as agreed the next Sunday at The Café. From the outside, it looked like it was relatively deserted with empty tables that were sparkle-clean, but never judge a book by its cover, for when they arrived inside their cheery mood was interrupted by an odd sight consisting of a person that resembled an over-sized leprechaun and one unhappy Tachibana An. 

"Stop heckling me."

"Eh? But I just wanted to say hi and ask about Kamio."

"Kamio-kun is doing fine. Stop touching me."

"I didn't touch you."

"Yes you did."

"No I didn't."

"Yes you did."

"Okay, maybe I accidentally brushed against you arm when mine came to my hair, but-"

"Ah! Fuji-san, Saeki-san! And those people!"

An seemed to have finally taken notice of the quartet who were previously watching and listening to the skit with amusement. She glided over with a happy smile, seeming relieved that she had a reason to ditch Sengoku, who was standing in the same position with his back turned towards them, perhaps rather shocked that he had just been discarded so easily by a girl. His recovery is quick, for these kinds of things happened regularly, and it wasn't but a moment when he turned around to face the others.

"We've now stepped up from being ignored to 'those people'," Oshitari said as he gave Niou a little nudge. Niou merely shrugged, but Oshitari noted that his usually stormy eyes parted as the light of the girl dawned on them, like a peaceful enlightenment. Some people might've thought that Niou had taken a liking to the hair-clip goddess, but Oshitari knew far better and saw this as only the eye of the storm. The bluette (as I now coin the word) conquered that Niou's inner gears were squeaking around with delight as they began to spin a mischievous plan.

"What can I get you?" she asked.

"I think I'll have plain water this time," Fuji told her with a smile, which can reflected back with twice its vigor.

"I'll have water too," Saeki seconded.

"Water," Niou and Oshitari chorused without realization. The two then turn to look at each other before scoffing and turning the other way. Though it could be say that it was expected seeing the other half had already picked the same thing, it still came to Oshitari and Niou as something different to be hearing their own voices saying the same thing among others in perfect timing.

"Apple juice." Everyone's eyes are on Sengoku as he gave them a sheepish grin and a small wave. While An merely groans and drifts off as duty pulls her, Sengoku remains behind, giving the girl a break while she fetched them their drinks and fixed his attention of Fuji, Niou, Saeki, and Oshitari as they give him theirs in equal quantity.

"Sengoku-san." Fuji breaks the silence. "Care to join us?"

* * *

"Oh, I see." 

The four had just recounted their brief, but very captivating story of how they met to Sengoku— actually, it was just Fuji really— who was sucking it in about as fast as he had sucked in his apple juice, which was now all but vanished save a couple of lingering drops near the bottom. His eyes shown with interested at the four sitting across from him, jammed very nicely into the small seat usually reserved for two. It was Fuji who insisted it was but common courtesy to let the Yamabuki player have one side to himself. How that came about was something the other three were still trying to figure out.

"Niou-san, can you _move_? You're nearly sitting on me!" Saeki protested as he banged his head against the wall in pure frustration. The loss of brain cells compensated for the momentary oblivion to the situation, but all too soon Saeki found himself fished out of void and back into reality. And Niou was _still_ nearly sitting on top of him!

"Don't tack a 'san' after my name!" Niou shot back as he tried to push over more to comply to Saeki's wishes and his own, for he had no intention of sitting upon anybody. "Yuushi! _Move_!"

"I'm _trying_!" Oshitari groaned. "Fuji! _Move_!"

"Not a chance," Fuji said, being the one on the end. Sengoku laughed at the hilarious sight. Who'd though that fragile Fuji Syusuke could hold off three deliriously unhappy tennis players without even raising a racket? There was so much more depths to the (original) prodigy than just his physical appearance as Sengoku now noted. Actually, Sengoku had hunch about it when he watched Fuji play, but he never really took the time to think about it beyond the fact that Fuji was immensely talented. Nope. Food, sleep, and tennis were already occupying much of his brain.

"You guys are interesting," Sengoku said with a satisfied smile. Dumping some ice into his mouth and chewing on it with joy, Sengoku continued to watch the squirming and sighs escaping form the side over the table yonder. "Let's go play some tennis."

* * *

"Hey, are you sure this is alright?" 

"Yup! I'm feeling extra lucky today! I even got to see you again, Kamio!"

"I have no complaints."

"Me neither."

"Neither do I."

"Whatever."

"Well then, um… one set match, Sengoku to… serve…"

Kamio's left eyelid twitched much like it always did when Shinji ran past the Ten-Minute-Mumble-Mark, only this time it wasn't Shinji's mumbling. What was that word he was searching for again? Odd? No, that was simply too simple and plain to describe this kind of match. Weird? Yes, but it was still not quite enough. Queer? No, not enough impact. Ah… _bizarre_. That was the word.

He'd seen doubles numerous times, and even a two-on-one situation like with Atobe, Kabaji, Momoshiro, and himself when Kabaji was the only one playing on the other side. However, this wasn't a doubles match, two-on-one, or even a three-on-one. This was played with Fuji, Saeki, Niou, and Oshitari, on one end of the court poised, alert, and ready, Sengoku alone on the other winding up a serve, and Kamio roped into being referee. Confused but mostly curious at the set-up, he watched as the match began to unfold.

"Hey! Do I get something if I win?" Sengoku called out as he sent the florescent green ball pounding over to the other side of the court. With a few steps Fuji stepped in and sent it back to its source with a drive as solid as any others and a smile displaying his delightfulness towards the match.

"Well, seeing how our brigade already carries so many quiddity-oddities, you might as well join," Oshitari said as he took the next shot.

"Quiddity-oddities?" Niou asked. "That sounds pleasant and unwordlike." He was sarcastic, of course. The boy was hardly ever serious, and when he was serious, it was in tennis, but usually was never _really _serious. However, it was the lack seriousness that had cost then the first point.

"Fifteen-love."

"'Unwordlike' isn't a word, Niou-kun," Saeki informed him. Niou shrugged as he always did, but a noticeable grin danced upon his lips. Saeki was too busy frowning to see the ball sail by him.

"Thirty-love."

"But you should, Sengoku-san," Fuji said. Another ball lost.

"Forty-love."

"Sounds like fun!" Sengoku exclaimed as he delivered yet another service ace.

"Game, Sengoku, one game-love."

"Hey, you guys are slacking," Oshitari grumbled.

* * *

It turns out that playing with four inconceivable people on one side of the court could get a bit cramped in terms of space. More than once they all found themselves inconceivably tripping, or inconceivably nearly tripping over someone else while all dashing to return the ball, and there was even one time when Fuji and Niou had an inconceivable head-on collision chasing after their objective that was skittering down the middle, resulting on Fuji getting crushed as Niou Fuji's racket in his face and much snickering in the backdrop. In the end, the wild and inconceivable match ended with Sengoku winning, which was very inconceivable considering the skill and number the other side contained. Inconceivable. (All right then, moving on from the inconceivable that didn't fit well into half the text now.) 

Contentedly trotting over to where the four were currently gathering themselves up after the match, (in most cases gently rubbing the aches and bruises they had received when knocked to the ground) Sengoku placed himself in their little circle with a smug expression for all to see before saying with a tone that could only be called pure satisfaction:

"So, do we have a name?"

* * *

After that inconceivable match (yes, that shall be the last time you hear it for a while) and much wandering about the city for a lack of something to do and boredom, Kamio came across someone he could only describe as a completely random encounter with no strings attached to it from behind. Had it not been for a brief glimpse of him playing against Seigaku during one of the tournaments, Kamio might've just as well walked swift past him without the slightest clue to whom the person was nor giving any mind to whom he was either. Actually, he accepted the other into the scene, but he would've swished right by had the other not noticed him as well and stopping Kamio dead in the tracks with probably one of the hugest social greeting blunders you could imagine in the tennis world: 

"Ah! It's the guy who got beaten by Kaidoh dane!"

Never address people as the guy who got beaten by so-and-so, because not only will you severely tick them off, (whether they contain it or express it freely depends on the person of course) you would have also put yourself at a most disadvantageous position should you ever seek their favor in the future. Failures are always remembered while achievements can so easily slip away in your mind. Kamio certainly remembered this one, and with his fuse already cut short by the pair of scissors known as the Sengoku versus Niou, Oshitari, Fuji, and Saeki match, (which he still found bizarre and rather annoying because it reminded him of the fact that Shinji never showed up to meet him as they had scheduled the day before) he was in quite the mood for a fight.

"Are you insulting my skills you insolent fool?" Kamio hissed, words coated with venom most poisonous. The other flinched as he finally took in the fact that Kamio was definitely not in the cherry mood that the sunset usually bestowed upon every soul. His composure quickly came back to him as he explained:

"No dane! I got knocked out by Momoshiro's dunk smash dane! We have so much in common dane!"

In the long and short of it, it correlated, and Kamio has now found a kindred spirit in the most unlikely of people.

* * *

It was agreed between the five of them that they'd all meet again on Tuesday with Niou promising that he'd somehow get Sanada to let him bypass on tennis practice, (No one raised the question as to how, and even though they were all quite curious as to how Niou would render his captain helpless and obeying his wishes, they really didn't want to delve too far into the affairs of Rikkai Dai. Harassment? Blackmail? Pure ingenious evil? None seemed out of the ballpark with Niou Masaharu.) and Saeki assuring them that the Rokkaku tennis club wouldn't be in total disorientation if he left it in the hands of Kentarou for just one afternoon. The reason for such a prompt gathering was because of the factor that Sengoku had mentioned after the match: a name. If it should come to them beginning their own order and inner circle, might as well name it. So with goodbyes and departures, the group spilt as they all thought of how to get their own name in the front of the bunch. Of course, a name of any sort hadn't sparked in anyone's mind, but getting their imprint to be the largest on the not-yet-known-title was the most important thing as of the moment.

* * *

"Niou-kun, I hope you didn't cause any inconveniences for anyone." 

"Purii."

"Hmm… so you're in that kind of mood."

Yagyuu leaned forward into his desk and Niou gave his chair a one-eighty degrees turn to face the bespectacled gentleman with a playful frown. Yagyuu wasn't the least bit intimidated by the scowl that hung on Niou's lips. Rather, he was actually more irked at the sight of it. It was a strange and queer thing, but Yagyuu learned that when Niou had an overdose of melancholy, his lips would smile; when he was feeling neither happy nor sad, his lips would be in a straight unmoving line; when he was excited or amused, he would smirk or grin; when he was excessively joyous, he would scowl, and when he did that, Yagyuu was always walking on a tightrope trying to pull him out of trouble.

"What do you mean, Yagyuu?" Niou asked. "I am perfectly innocent."

"You are perfectly troublesome, that's what you are," Yagyuu tossed back. "Have you any idea where I found my wallet?"

"In my locker?"

"Precisely."

Niou let a sigh roll over his tongue before sticking it out to let Yagyuu know that he could care the least. Money was money, and money was paper, and paper were just trees undergone mass amounts of processing, and maybe there was some fibers mixed up in that whole ordeal. Yagyuu could only echo his sigh in exasperation and defeat, for he knew that he couldn't really blame the boy over it since, despite different amounts of certain bills, no value had been subtracted from what Yagyuu had originally, and he was well grateful for that.

"And where were you yesterday anyhow? Your mother said you were out."

"Hmm… I don't know," Niou answered as the scowl eased back into a grin. Snatching Yagyuu's glasses before the boy had a chance to react, Niou donned them and let his lips form the unmoving line, which Yagyuu's mouth usually aligned with. "And where were you yesterday anyhow? Your mother said you were out," he mimicked. It sounded convincing. Too convincing.

"Niou-kun, stop it," Yagyuu scolded as he made a futile attempt to take back his spectacles. Niou swung his head aside, narrowly avoiding Yagyuu's clutch. Know that there was not going to be a way to make Niou relent on his trickeries, Yagyuu decided to play along. (As if he really had a choice.) "Well, Hiroshi-chan, why don't you figure out for yourself what I did yesterday?"

"Niou-kun, really, stop being difficult," Niou-pretending-to-be-Yagyuu said with exasperation as he buried his face into his hand. "Can't you see I'm concerned about you?"

"Well, don't be. I can take care of myself," Yagyuu-pretending-to-be-Niou answered as he leaned closer, glaring hard at the other. With one hand supporting himself on the desk he reached out the other to take Niou-pretending-to-be-Yagyuu's hand and slammed it onto the hard wooden surface. Yagyuu sighed. "Really, Niou-kun, where were you?"

"I'll tell you if you'll do me a favor," Niou answered, giving up the gimmick as he took off the glasses. The lenses were quite hard on the eye, but Niou endured the small headache that came with the dizzy world. It was a small price to pay because he now had Yagyuu exactly where he wanted him.

"What kind of favor, Niou-kun?" Yagyuu asked suspiciously, though he didn't dare let the suspicion show. Must keep a good face.

"Just promise me you'll do it, Hi-ro-shi," Niou pleaded, adding extra emphasis on Yagyuu's name. Each syllable literally screamed 'DISASTER! RETREAT NOW OR FACE COMPLETE ANNIHALATION AND DOOM!", but Yagyuu was curious, and curiosity was oh-so-very-tempting, and this was one time that Yagyuu allowed himself to fall into temptation.

"I'll do it, Haru-chan," Yagyuu challenged. (Though he did brush longer that night after saying that.) Niou grinned.

Hook, line, and sinker.

* * *

"Yuushi, did something happen?" 

Gakuto was quite unhappy with his friend. He was still as unsatisfied as ever with the pathetic excuse he dumped on him before, not once, but _twice_ now, ditching him and prancing off to lands unknown. Gakuto highly doubted that Oshitari would spend such large chunks of time studying, especially since the genius rarely studied for such minor quizzes prior and Shishido told him that such quizzes didn't even exist. It was very frustrating to the redhead, and he was quite in need of a proper answer. So this is how he came about to cornering him outside of the team clubhouse.

"Hmm? No," was the answer the bluette gave him. Quick, simple and straightforward answers were usually best way to cover-up lies, but Gakuto knew Oshitari better than that. Flipping himself over the taller boy, (and quite literally indeed) Gakuto landed with an angry pout and arms crossed, standing his ground as Oshitari (quite stunned) met his gaze. _Spark… Spark… Spark… Boom!_

"Ah! Shishido-san! Are you okay?"

"I _told_ you not to meddle with the fuse box until the electrician got here!"

"Sorry, Atobe, but I was afraid your mouth was going to fall off with that nonstop jabbering so I thought I'd do _something_ for your benefit."

"Shishido-san!"

"Sorry, sorry."

Ah, and so Gakuto's answer slips away yet again as Oshitari walks off with a triumphant smirk. What perfect timing. He'd have to thank Shishido later for being stupid.

* * *

"Fujiko-chan!" 

"Hmm? Eiji, you're here early. Not even Tezuka got here yet, only Ryuzaki-sensei."

A happy Kikumaru Eiji sporting an earsplitting smile frolicked over to Fuji who was in the midst of poking his arm through his shirt. (There are two ways to wear a shirt: head followed by arms, or arms followed by head. Fuji was the former.) A playful tackle resulting in Eiji hanging over him much in the same fashion that he usually hung over Ryoma caught Fuji by surprise, and the brunette saw that Eiji's smile was more than just the delighted one he wore everyday. No, today it carried a whiff of mischief and an 'I- know-something-that-you-don't-know-that-I-know-about-you' quirk. Fuji was very interested in what Eiji was smiling about.

"Oh, really?" Eiji went on with a smile snicker lodged in there somewhere. "So, Fuji, how was your weekend?"

"Eiji, what is it?" Quick, simple, and straightforward weren't just useful for answers, they worked well with questions as well. Eiji took the opportunity to his advantage.

"Well, now that you ask," Eiji began, "I guess I'll have to tell you that I saw you yesterday." Fuji nodded him to continue. "With that Lucky guy from Yamabuki, Saeki-san, that wrench's double's partner, and that scary guy from Rikkai. Oh, and with Tachibana's little sister as well."

"Eh? Really?" Fuji said with a smile. "You should've said something. I didn't see you."

"Well, I was about to go in and say hi, but that guy is really scary! He was so mean last time!" Eiji whined as he squeezed Fuji harder all the while dissolving into a jumble of 'nya!'s and 'unya!'s. Fuji didn't have the heart to tell him that tennis wasn't always a friendly match, nor did he have the breath. Eiji's grip has definitely gotten stronger.

"E-Eiji…" Yes, definitely stronger.

"And besides, I was suppose to be at the courts. I finally trapped Ochibi into having a rematch with me and I couldn't be late."

"Um… Eiji…" Too strong.

"But I saw you there as well and I wanted to go say hi this time but Ochibi was really persistent and I ended up treating him to food."

"…E…E…" Way too strong.

"And he ate so much too! That kid left me broke for the rest of the week! And I was suppose to go watch a movie with Momo later this week too about world terrorism and how this dog stopped a war by turning the evil dictator good and the loony king sane again!"

"…Air…" _Who_ was Seigaku's strongest player again?

It was only then that Eiji realized that since Fuji was taller than Ryoma that his arms were wrapped around his neck instead of his shoulder like he thought. Obviously, one fainted Fuji fresh in the morning wasn't a very pleasant way to start the day off. Eventful, but certainly not pleasant.

"Ah! Fuji! Fuji! Get a hold of yourself! Fuji!"

"…"

Eiji resorted to better means. Gently placing Fuji on the floor and with his hands around his shoulders, Eiji loomed over the boy's porcelain face with a look of determination. Sucking in a large gulp of air, the acrobat lowered his face until their noses were almost touching… and yelled:

"Fuji! Wake-up, wake-up, wake-up, wake-up, wake-up, wake-up, wake-up, wake-up!" and all the while slamming the brunette's head against the floor. (This act is also known as solution #17 in 'How To Wake Up An Unconscious Being'. For all those who know someone who refuses to wake up in the morning, this is very effective, though strongly recommended against. Initiate at your own risk.)

It wouldn't have been so bad. Sure, Fuji was loosing mass amounts of brain cells by the second and Eiji was wasting away at his voice, but it really wouldn't have been so bad because the two would surely have forgiven each other after the incident. It was only bad because then a third person walked in.

"E-Eiji…!" Oishi was utterly stunned. Here sat his double's partner and friend on top of an unconscious Fuji. Had he not known better, he would've gotten the wrong impression of the whole ordeal. (Like Eiji beating up Fuji over a nonexistent grudge and winning.) He had not expected this, and Eiji hadn't expected that he'd faint too.

"Nya! Now I'll have to wake _both_ of them up!" To Eiji, this was truly troublesome.

* * *

"Yuushi! I want an answer." 

"I already told you I was studying for a quiz."

"Liar! That's not what Shishido told me!"

Oshitari Yuushi was in a predicament. Gakuto was fawning over him every second now that they were out of school and practice and demanding a straight answer instead of fibs from him. Oshitari would've easily fabricated a grand lie to cover the whole thing up, but he wasn't very big on deceiving his friend. Yet still, he really didn't wish to supply Gakuto with a straight answer as well.

Gakuto on the other hand, was really hoping that Oshitari would be able to answer his question. He had been very fidgety in his classes anxious about the next time he'd be able to catch his double's partner to demand an answer. Yet so far, everything didn't seem to be working out for him at all. First, there was the time when he had the other in the hall and Oshitari was just about to say something when the lock on the janitor's closet seemed to have clicked open, rewarding Gakuto with a mop on his head as a response while Oshitari pranced off to class with notable laughs. The second time was during lunch, but that attempt had been foiled while Jirou accidentally tripped and spilled his soup over his head and he was forced to rush to the bathroom to wash it off as best he could. The third time was just recently at tennis practice, but Shishido's blown fuse box sent his answer out the window yet again. This time, however, Gakuto was sure that nothing could go wrong. …He hoped.

"Gakuto, why do you want an answer from me so much?" Oshitari asked as he turned around to face his friend.

"Because I'm concerned you idiot, ok?" Gakuto said with fury. "I mean, it's a girl, isn't it?"

"What?" Oshitari hadn't seen that coming. Him? Dating? Not yet. He certainly didn't want to be treating squealing fangirls to dinner and having them go on and on like morons about themselves. That isn't to say that their aren't some more intelligent picks out of the bunch, but in truth, Oshitari really was more interested in tennis than girls at the moment.

"Well, if it's not a girl, then are you doing drugs? I mean, there's a lot of shady people out here and if you're not careful-"

"You don't have to worry that much about me, though I do appreciate your concern." Oshitari stopped the boy short with a gentle pat on the hat and a sweet smile before walking away, leaving Gakuto staring after his disappearing form wondering exactly what had just happened. And then he realized it:

"That snake! He slithered out on me _again_!"

Somewhere around the corner, Oshitari couldn't help but laugh. The whole thing was undoubtedly hilarious, but there was a tiny thing that was nagging at him.

"Drugs? He thinks I'm the type to do drugs?"

* * *

"Sae-san! You won't believe it! Guess what happened to me yesterday!" 

An insanely joyful Kentarou dashed up to Saeki and tackled him to the ground before the other could even process the situation. Though the air was knocked right out from his lungs in less than a second, Saeki was more disturbed by how heavy his captain was. (Kentarou must have put on more muscle.) However, he couldn't say he wasn't use to it, though it had been a long time. When they were younger, Fuji senior and junior use to spring up onto him like that. Ah, nostalgic days. Saeki could feel the promised heart-wrench and the inability to breathe for a few seconds that always happened after he got the wind knocked out of him. It wasn't a very pleasant experience, and it made his brain melt.

"What happened?" Saeki managed to muster out as Kentarou sprang off of him and proceeded to go into a gallant pose with tears streaming down his eyes, much like a dramatic scene from a shoujo manga with the bright eyes and all. Saeki blinked. Now there was a sight you didn't see everyday.

"Sae-san! I got a girlfriend!"

And for the second time that minute, Saeki felt his brain melting. "You _what_?"

* * *

"Yuushi!" _Boing._ "Answer!" _Boing._

"Gakuto, stop jumping on the trampoline outside my window. People will stare." _Boing._

"Answer, Yuushi!" _Boing._

"Stop." _Boing._

"Wh-" _F-L-O-P.

* * *

_

Sengoku was definitely having a good day. While all his other newly acquainted friends were in muddy water either trying to ward of stalkers, being pinned down by a teammate, or trying to lure a mouse into the trap, he was having a relatively normal day with not a lot of excitement unless you count that once scene when Akutsu flipped the table on an innocent first-year. Tennis practice was going smoothly as well with him beating everybody with his mad superior skills and undying luck. All was typical and standard with not a bump in the road to stop him.

And yes, it remained that way for the rest of the day. No 'until he met so-and-so' here. Nope. Everything was just plain dandy.

* * *

"Yuu-" 

"Gakuto! How did you get up here?"

"I scaled the side of your house."

"Are you _insane_ or just plain _stupid_!"

"But I want an answer!"

* * *

"Girlfriend?" Saeki was skeptical. No, he was absolutely convinced that this must have been some joke. While he did admit that Kentarou was probably one of the most genuine people you could come across these days, (nothing like the ranks of people he had just hung out with yesterday) his presence was quite overbearing and it took some time before you realized just how wonderful and pleasant he could be. It must have been one hell of a girl to be able to accept Kentarou for who he was on the very first meeting. 

"Uh-huh! I met her near the shopping district," he began, oozing enthusiasm like a flowing faucet. "We were shopping at the same place, and she was 100 yen short on something, and I offered to lend her that amount and then we went out for ice cream! Isn't that romantic?"

"Oh, sure," Saeki said with a tweaked smile. He decided to play along for that was what his integrity was telling him to do. Besides, he had to admit he was a little curious. Kentarou went on:

"And then she asked if I'd like to see her again next week at the same place so we could talk more, and I said yeah, and that would be like a date, wouldn't it?"

"Yeah, I suppose."

"So in other words, it's like we're dating!" Kentarou finished as he hugged himself and drifted off to La-La-Land. He had been wishing for so long that he'd be able to net such a cute girl, and finally his wish had came true! What wasn't to be happy about? "And look! She accidentally dropped a picture of herself too! Though I should say it was probably intentional."

Picture. Now there was something interesting. By the sounds of it, Saeki had the mental image of an ecstatic girl with a ponytail and a smile to match his friend here. However, when he took the picture from Kentarou's hand, his image was shattered like glass broken into a million pieces. Traumatic. That was probably the word to describe Saeki's state. Luckily for him, he overcame the initial shock as logic wiggled its way through the corners of his mind.

"Um… Kentarou, what exactly was this girl's name?" Saeki said slowly.

"It was-"

"Atsushi? Kentarou, why do you have a picture of my twin?"

In an instant all the enthusiasm was sucked from the boys face as he turned in horror to face Ryou, who took the picture out of Saeki's hands to examine it himself. Saeki, being the one who knew of the whole situation, broke into a fit of laughter as a cry of misery found its way up to Kentarou's mouth. He didn't really blame Kentarou for the mix-up though. Atsushi with his slender frame and bright eyes would have been easily passed as a female, though Ryou— if he took off his hat— would've been able to pass a lot easier.

"Aww! I should've _known_ something was wrong when her- I mean his name turned out to be a guy's!" Kentarou wailed. Ryou looked completely misplaced and curious, but after a second his face lit up.

"Oh, that's right. Atsushi said he saw you yesterday. Said you were interesting and wanted to pry off more stories about me next time," Ryou said bitterly. And he was trying so hard to keep the fact that he had pulled off Inui's shorts during that beach-ball game and collapsed after that horrible anchovy juice a secret too!

And Saeki laughed on.

* * *

So, to make it simple, that was the eventful (and in one person's case relatively normal) Monday our protagonists faced. Not to worry though! Fuji and Oishi eventually regained conscious after Momoshiro and Kaidoh were forced by Tezuka to drag them up to the infirmary, and Kentarou found himself once again in tennis while Saeki experienced a better ending to his day than the start. Niou, well, you can probably guess what he and Yagyuu are diving into, (and by that I don't mean Hell) and as for Oshitari and Gakuto, well…

* * *

"Ah! Mother! I think someone just broke into Yuushi's room! There was a terrible crash that sounded like glass breaking!" 

"Damn it! Why did you lock your windows?"

"Gakuto! Get in the closet and _shut up_!"


	5. Incident 5

Incident Five

In which Oshitari is presumably having a child,

Tezuka will presumably play video games,

And Ryou presumably cuts his hair

* * *

When the five reassembled in their booth at The Café the next day, Sengoku seemed to be the only one not in some sort of state other than their usual norm. Oshitari looked as if he'd fall asleep at any minute, Fuji was rather quiet and his smile was but a shadow of his usual one. Niou seemed too extremely happy to count as a regular mode, and Saeki seemed just plain disturb. An seemed to have picked up on this as well.

"What happened to you people?" she asked with an air of curiosity. She didn't exactly get an answer right then for more people were coming in right then and she frolicked off to serve them.

"What _did_ happen to you people?" Sengoku asked. No one offered much of an answer as they continued about in whatever state they were residing in. Only Niou managed to say something:

"Well, whatever we're here for, make it fast because I doubt even Yagyuu could last more than an hour and a half under Yanagi's eyes."

And that would be how the others found our about Niou's grand escape plan. They didn't ask for further information because the identity switch the two had preformed against the golden pair a ways back was quite notorious and certainly one of the more entertaining matches up to date as well as… well… _creepy_. Instead, they did what he advised and pushed the issues out onto the table.

"Uh, so, is there anyone besides me who didn't get a chance to think about much of anything yesterday?" Saeki asked. He was well relieved when Oshitari, Fuji, and Niou gave them their gestures in support. Their stories could be saved for later, and in time his story ending would be reveled too, but right now all focus was on Sengoku, the only unphased one of the group.

"I brought paper and pens!" he offered lamely as he retrieved some pens and a stack of paper from his tennis bag. While it was true his day offered him many opportunities to think up a compatible title for the five of them, he thought that that department would've been taken cared of by Fuji, Niou and Oshitari, whom, he admitted, were much more creative and crafty than he was. All he did was bring the obvious— something to record their ideas on. Since Fuji, Niou and Oshitari were either shaken up, couldn't think clearly, or about to take a boat off to the Land of Nod, they'd have to start fresh. Good thing he brought a lot of paper.

* * *

"Niou-kun…"

"What?"

"I-"

"Wait, stand still for a second."

"… Niou-kun, you're making me feel very uncomfortable."

Yagyuu slapped away Niou's hand from crumpling up his uniform anymore, because it was already very well crumpled along with his tie and pants. The change was hasty because as Niou calculated, they had exactly seven minutes and forty-six seconds to make the plan work and avoid laps from Sanada should he be late. Yes, you heard the plural on the first and the singular on the second. This was Niou's grand plan to slip away— to use Yagyuu as a decoy. To uphold his loyalty and humble dignity, Yagyuu agreed, though he was probably degrading both at the moment.

"Shut up."

"Niou-kun, _stop_!"

A flustered Yagyuu backed up against the wall to escape the clutches of his friend, who was in the process of smothering him with a dose of hair gel. Niou looked at him oddly, for this wasn't the usual Yagyuu he knew. The usual Yagyuu would abide to his commitments and shutted up when he was told. (And Niou thought he had complete control over his friend too.)

"I'm about to suffocate if you'll pull that thing any tighter!" Niou looked innocently down at his other hand and realized that he was indeed choking the hell out of Yagyuu. Apparently the bothersome thing didn't come out with a simple tug like it did for him, and only with his vigorous yanks, he had turned a simple piece of cloth into a noose that might've as well led Yagyuu to a state of unconsciousness. (Which has been happening to just about everyone, a state of unconsciousness I mean.)

"Sorry," the boy apologized lamely before letting Yagyuu loosen the tie himself. A look of relief overcame the gentleman's face, but Niou could really care less and he glanced up impatiently at he clock that hung near the exit of the classroom and then at the door. They were the only two in there, and Niou had made a point in securely locking it, but paranoia easily overcame the boy when he was in a rush.

"How much time do you need, Yagyuu?" Yagyuu-pretending-to-be-Niou asked with strikingly convincing exasperation. Niou smirked.

"As long as you can, Niou-kun," Niou-pretending-to-be-Yagyuu answered and with a swift hug and a wave, he unlocked the door and bolted out with a, "I always wanted to hug myself" as an explanation. Yagyuu sighed miserably.

"This is one of those times I really, really hate you," Yagyuu mumbled unhappily before gathering all of Niou's things and dumping them into his bag. He made a note to himself to drop it off at him house later, but right now all his concerns were focused on tennis practice. He wondered how long he'd last in this guise. Yanagi's eyes were always ever watchful, even though they were kept closed all the time and even Yagyuu wondered how he could see anything at all.

* * *

In present time, the five were jotting away happily on their papers respectively with the occasional thoughtful 'hmm' and the more common silent pause in between characters. At last, however, everything fell into place and the group was ready to present their thoughts.

"Say, do you have more paper?" Niou requested. Everyone's eyes found their way to Niou's paper, which was covered with scrawls, some taking up half the page and others so miniscule you could hardly see them. The boy didn't seem to have taken and interest in the fact that the paper was lined because characters were everywhere from being upside-down to sideways to being connected by the highway of little smudged arrows.

"Why don't you tell us what you have there, if you can even read it," Oshitari said dubiously. Niou obliged as he placed his paper in the center of table for all eyes to feast on. The group made due with figuring out his characters:

Niou The Great and People

Niou's Fantastic Act

Niou the Brilliant and Group

Niou the Invincible and Crew

Niou's Glory Descended Upon Earth

… And so on. The gang was speechless. Actually, they couldn't decide between laughing or gorging their eyes out with the plastic forks so easily at hand.

"What? They're clearly _very_ good names," Niou protested to the silent, though the frown told you he wasn't serious about the matter at all. Rather, he found it as a joke and enjoyed seeing the reaction of other's right in front of his eyes.

"Right, if your name is Niou," Oshitari put in sarcastically followed by a muffled yawn.

"What? You have better names?" Niou challenged.

"Maybe."

* * *

Truthfully, Gakuto didn't like sleeping away from home, much less anyone's closet for that matter, even if it was a rather large and spacey closet belonging to Oshitari. (Better than a serial killer, right?) At first he found it very hard to fall asleep and on various accounts considered busting out of there and demand that he should be able to go home. His conscience of the better of him though, because he knew more than well how much trouble he had caught for Oshitari, so instead, he nestled himself into a corner where Oshitari kept his spare blankets… and whined.

"I can't believe after all this he's _still_ refusing to tell me what happened!" Gakuto muttered, making sure to keep it down as not to alert anyone. Oh, he was ticked off, _very_ ticked off. After all the following (stalking) and nagging and even the scaling-house-in-middle-of-night act, Oshitari _still_ hasn't told him what in the world was going on in his, well, world. Normally after all this fruitless effort, Gakuto would've given up and called it a day, but there was just something extremely and frustratingly fishy about this whole ordeal.

Gakuto sighed to himself as he racked his brain and replayed the events that had taken place in the past day. After thoroughly reviewing all of the entered data, he concluded that he still did not know the answer only that it was driving him absolutely insane being left in the dark. Weren't best friends supposed to share secrets? So what exactly was Oshitari hiding from him?

And then it hit him.

"Yuushi! How many months!" Unable to contain his new theory, Gakuto scrambled up and bolted out of the closet, ignoring the fact that everyone else was still sleeping and that his theory was probably a very redundant and nonsensical one.

"_Sleep_, damn it!"

Gakuto immediately zipped his mouth and dove back into the closet, but this time he was content. (As well as slightly troubled.) Oshitari had neither agreed nor disagreed to his question, which meant only one answer: Oshitari was going to be a dad. (Do not ask how that makes sense because it _does_ make sense, so _there_.)

Gakuto prayed that he'd be the godfather, but he was still more interested in who exactly Oshitari had screwed.

Oshitari, on the other hand, allowed Gakuto to believe his stupid little idea because for goodness sake he wanted, in his own words, "_Sleep_, damn it!"

* * *

"So, let's see your brilliant ideas," Niou chided as Oshitari slapped down his paper with triumph. Everyone crowed around it like seagulls to their next meal.

The Handsome Devil and His Minions

The Evil President and His Cabinet

In The Great Devious Presence of Oshitari and his Loyal Followers (IGDPOLF for short because it has a nice ring to it… hmm… IGDPOLF…)

Your Supreme Ruler and his Servants

The God of Tennis and the Lower Downs

… And you get the point. This time, the group wasn't really sure to do much of anything. Clearly when Oshitari said 'better', he meant 'better in the same sense Niou was getting at'.

"You really expect us to use one of those?" Fuji questioned as he scanned the paper and more of Oshitari's 'brilliant ideas'. "Well, actually, I wouldn't mind if it was 'In The Great Devious Presence of Fuji and his Loyal Followers' to tell the truth." Everyone knew that Fuji was joking, but that didn't stop them from casting him a quirky look.

"No, I don't think we'll be using that," Saeki said. (Really, IGDPFLF is just _impossible_ to pronounce and if you do you'll probably end up spitting on your monitor.)

"So let's see yours, Koujirou," Fuji teased as leaned over and took Saeki's paper, as well as accidentally knocking over the other's cup of water. The table was _very_ crowded after all.

Niou gave a melodramatic squeal— perhaps his imitation of a girl— as he scrambled on top of the seat to prevent the water from reaching him. Oshitari did the smart thing of attacking the spill with a mound of napkins, and Sengoku made a quick rescue of their papers and pens. Fuji was busy mopping up Saeki.

"I'm sorry," Fuji apologized as he stuffed a handful of tissues into Saeki's hands, and Saeki in turn dabbed at his soaked shirt and pants. "I should've been more careful."

"No, no, it's okay," Saeki answered as he got up and made his way to the restroom. It wasn't a good idea, though, leaving the four of them unattended that is.

* * *

"Hey, where's Yagyuu?"

Yagyuu caught himself right before he was about to blurt out: "I'm right here." And instead answered: "Family emergency or something. His nonexistent pet probably died."

"Oh, I see." Marui walked off without another word and Yagyuu breathed a sigh of relief. So far so good, but how long will the charade last?

"Niou-senpai!"

Yagyuu sidestepped just in time to allow a charging Kirihara though without getting trampled into a pancake, but he was flustered nonetheless. He, one, had now idea what was going on, two, knew that whatever had happened between Kirihara and Niou wasn't good, and three, that he'd be getting the punishment for Niou's deed.

"What do you want?" Yagyuu asked. It was a cautious move. Depending on how Kirihara answered, he would know what to expect and when to run.

"You should know damn well what I want!" Kirihara spat. Yagyuu decided to take the precautionary and solely backed away. Kirihara matched him inch for inch, step for step.

"Actually, I don't," Yagyuu answered, and that was the sad, sad truth. Of course, he had no mind to find out what he really wanted, and frankly he really didn't want to know either because whatever he wanted, Niou had obviously screwed the midpoint between the red-eyed in-great-need-of-anger-management-teen and his want.

"You know what? Forget it!" Kirihara screamed as he approached Yagyuu. It was at this point that the danger sensors in his head started going 'RUN! RUN! RUN!' because judging from the other's expression, Yagyuu was pretty sure to assume that he'd be kissing the dirt in a few moments. He was in no mind to get punched.

"Kirihara, whatever Niou did, it was not my fault," Yagyuu hissed as he quickly pulled out his glasses and donned them before shooting the boy a sympathetic and slightly muddled look. Kirihara paused for a second as a look of confusion crashed over him, but for the hell of it he decided to knock the other to the ground anyhow, just for kicks.

"Kirihara! Don't you recognize me?" Yagyuu sighed as he picked himself up and rubbed his cheek in distain. He pulled off the wig for more visual aid because apparently Kirihara hadn't gotten enough of it. A silent 'Oh' formed on the teen's mouth as realization of what he had done suddenly hit him. Kirihara winced.

"Sorry, Yagyuu-senpai," he mumbled sheepishly. "I was just… I mean… I…"

"It's alright," Yagyuu sighed as he replaced the wig, even though he found it most repulsive and revolting as well. "And I'll apologize on behalf of Niou-kun for you as well."

"No, don't, really, I mean… actually… why are you dressed up like him anyhow?" Finding his tongue in a knot, Kirihara opted to change the subject because naturally that was the wisest thing to do. Not only would it weasel him out of his predicament, it would put the pressure on Yagyuu. Why not let free two birds with one key? (Because killing them would be a terrible sin, wouldn't it?)

"It's… it's a long story," Yagyuu sighed. "Please don't tell anyone about this."

"I guess I shouldn't, after hitting you and all…" Kirihara tacked on with an apologetic smile.

Yagyuu sighed. Only a few minutes in and he's already in the process of killing his cover. He didn't know how long he could last. All he could do was hope that Niou would come back, and _soon_ because… oh dear lord, here comes Yanagi.

"Yagyuu? What's Niou up to?" he asked. Good thing Yagyuu had already scripted out his responses.

"Niou has hightailed off to be with a bunch of his new acquaintances down in Tokyo where I presume they are planning to take over the world as we are speaking," Yagyuu answered. Had Yanagi not known him and Niou any better, he would've dubbed Yagyuu insane and in dire need of medication, but since he knew that with Niou it sounded rather reasonable, he didn't object to Yagyuu's answer, which was the truth and nothing but the truth. His only misconception was he 'taking over the world' gig, but with those five, it's probably only a matter of time before they had the earth in their clutches. Yagyuu tried very hard not to think of that day.

"Oh, I see," Yanagi said. "And I suppose he didn't want Sanada to find out."

"Preferably not," Yagyuu answered.

"I'll keep the secret."

* * *

"And then he crashed my bike and he still hasn't paid for the repairs yet!"

"That's wrong, dane! It's like when Yuuta borrowed my CDs and never returned them, only worse dane!"

Saeki caught a rather peculiar sight when he made his way out of the restroom, where he got as much water soaked up onto toilet paper as possible. There were two people chatting outside in plain view from where he was standing, and they immediately struck a chord in his memory. Subjected to curiosity, Saeki couldn't help but listen.

"And on top of that, he's toying around with An-chan, and that is unacceptable!"

"What's unacceptable, Kamio?"

Ah, Kamio. Saeki remembered him and his match against Sengoku. It was a brilliant display and he would not soon forget, and how Kamio eventually came up on top was truly inspiring. He recognized the other player too, because he made it a priority to research all of Yuuta's teammates, (Or, actually, more like by Fuji not so unobvious hints.) and identified him as Yanagisawa, or more commonly known as the one who got knocked out by Momoshiro's dunk smash. It was an odd duo Saeki had to admit, and An barging out there and joining their brigade made things ever stranger.

"A-An-chan!" Saeki took a few more steps towards the scene, drawn in by intrigue and mesmerized by the actors in the play.

"Hey, aren't you Momoshiro's girlfriend?" Yanagisawa asked innocently, oblivious to how Kamio was about to kill him and then commit suicide. Saeki held back a laugh.

"Nope. I'm Kamio's girlfriend, right?" And then Kamio wished that he hadn't killed himself, all in a literal sense of course.

"A-An-chan!"

"I'm kidding, Kamio."

* * *

"Eiji-senpai?"

"Ah! Ochibi! You've got to help me!"

A desperate Eiji flung himself onto of Ryoma as he avidly gesticulated at the two fainted forms of Oishi and Fuji, which Eiji had previously been trying to hide by pushing Fuji under a bench and Oishi into a corner. Ryoma merely blinked, seemingly unphased by all, and shrugged off Eiji before he went on to change into his practice outfit. Eiji was aghast at how uncaring Ryoma was.

"Ochibi! Please!" the redhead wailed. Ryoma let out an irritated sigh before taking a detour and walking up to Oishi. Eiji watched hopefully, praying that Ryoma would be able to sort things straight. His hopes were crushed when Ryoma gave an effortless kick and declared that he couldn't do anything else.

"Ochibi!" Eiji cried, but it was clear that Ryoma wasn't going to be much help. Instead, he turned to attention to the person who was now entering the door, infamous for making people faint. "Inui! You have to help me!"

"What is it, Kikumaru?" he asked as he took a quick scan of the room. His gaze landed on the poorly stuffed Fuji under the bench and the equally poorly conceal Oishi in the corner. Inui's mouth dropped to a slant. Very odd… _very_ odd indeed.

"They fainted, nya! _Fainted_! You have to wake them up!"

"Wake who up?"

"Fssh…"

All eyes traveled to the door where Momoshiro and Kaidoh stood, both looking very worn and muddy and also carrying a brand new set of scratches, cuts, and rips. No one wanted to question what the two had been doing (Rescuing another kitten maybe?) so it was left unknown. Besides, they had an even more demanding subject on their hands, and that was how to revive Fuji and Oishi from limbo.

It didn't take long for Momoshiro and Kaidoh to find the limp figures of Oishi and Fuji, and then click it to the figure of Inui, who, for once, was innocent, but trying to tell them that would be trying to tell a grown man that Santa Claus does exist. They took one look at the scenario, drastically paled until they were completely drained of any hints of blush, and then make a hasted and desperate dash to as far away as possible from where Inui was standing. The three who were conscious and not busy trying to run across the Sea of Japan observed the sight with confusion, but quickly resumed their business. For Ryoma, it was changing. For Inui, it was scribbling. For Eiji, it was freaking-out big time.

"I-nu-i! Stop taking data and help me!" Eiji grumbled.

"Help with what?" Another distraction came into view in the form of Kawamura, who had just entered the scene. It didn't take him long either to spot his two fainted teammates. "Ah! Fuji! Oishi! Are you guys okay?"

Kawamura immediately scrambled to Oishi, who was closest, and then to Fuji, giving them both a small shake to see if they would respond. Since Eiji's more extreme measures didn't leave a trace on them, Kawamura's method no doubt was of no effect on either of them. However, his will to do good deeds were put after his self-safety, and after spying Inui in the corner, Kawamura, like Kaidoh and Momoshiro, shot out of the door without a backwards glance since his burning courage was not present at the moment due to the lack of a racket. Eiji was getting desperate while the other two resumed their activities.

"Someone wake them up before Tezuka-buchou gets here!"

"Wake who before I get here, Kikumaru?"

Oh yes, Eiji was so screwed.

"Well, nya… you see, Fuji was… Fuji was… and then Oishi was…"

"Fuji-senpai died."

All eyes shot to the boy wonder, who had just shouldered his racket and cast the group a challenging look. Eiji couldn't believe Ryoma would suggest such an outrageous and outlandish thing, especially since he knew that it was certainly not the case. Inui seemed to have raised his scribble-speed up a notch, and the tip of pen was all but a blur. Tezuka was simply just staring, his emotions carefully locked away in his heart.

"No! Fuji didn't die!" Eiji stated. "Ochibi! Don't say things like that!"

"But does he look alive to you?" Ryoma asked as he gently tapped his racket against the brunette's chest. There was no response and the power of suggestion was leeching away at Eiji's thoughts. For a moment, the real fear that Fuji might be dead struck Eiji, and the boy was utterly horrified at… everything.

"He… he can't…" Eiji stammered, finding it rather hard to talk.

"I'm kidding," Ryoma scoffed before sauntering off onto the courts. That was a Ryoma-style joke to you.

"H-Hey, is it safe now?"

"Fssh…"

As Ryoma walked out, Kaidoh and Momoshiro peeked inside the clubhouse, still a bit weary of Inui. Momoshiro had a frightful look upon his face and Kaidoh looked as scary as ever, but Inui saw through that quickly enough to detect that the boy was scared out of his wits about him. Inui took a momentary break from the scribbling to soak it all up. Ah… power corrupts, but absolute power is kind of cool.

"Momoshiro, Kaidoh, take the two up to the infirmary and then get down here and start practice," Tezuka said as he stepped over the two of them and began getting ready to practice, (order laps) tennis, (total domination) and how to prepare for when Fuji comes crying to him about how he was sorry he missed practice (pure dread). After that, Tezuka could only try to resist as much as he could before he was roped into watching another sappy romance movie with him and Eiji and the occasional Ryoma forced into the mix. Truly a nightmare. If that wasn't bad enough, he could be sure a round of intensive, competitive, and ultra-violent video games came after that courtesy of Eiji. Tezuka didn't know if he could stand another Gone With The Wind without sufficient subtitles followed by Halo. (Neither of which I own. In fact, I was so horrible at playing Halo with my friend that the only people I could actually hit were our own allies.)

* * *

With the absence of Saeki, the gang decided to go ahead and review Fuji's paper. The brunette was delighted to share his thoughts and even offered read them out-loud to the rest of them, which they declined in fear of being sucked in by Fuji's alluring voice. Instead, the paper was placed in the middle like before, and the other three were hoping that something decent might've turned up in Fuji's mind:

SOS 'N FUJI

Room 14

Gone With the Tennis

Green Ball

We Luv Fuji

(And so on)

"Oh god…" Oshitari said as he took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes, a sure sign of frustration as well as being extremely sleep-deprived. Niou gave Fuji a 'what the hell' look, which Fuji answered with a 'you bet'cha' beam, and without Saeki to pour water on the two of them, things got hot, quick. There was a right out glare match between the two.

"Eh, Fuji, we're not exactly forming a band or making a movie or a Fuji worship cult," Sengoku said. "But I wouldn't mind using SOS 'N SENGOKU."

"No, it wouldn't work!" Fuji declared. "See? Each letter stands for the last initial of everyone's names."

Upon closer observation, they deemed this true, but the fact that it was SOS N' _FUJI_ was a huge turn-off, and his list like the list of those before him, were discarded. Sengoku was getting rather fidgety in his position. The three masterminds had fallen to greed and self-love, leaving them in a tough position. Sengoku was pretty sure none of his ideas would get used, (Sengoku's Super Army, Lucky and Friends, Orange-haired Man and Company, Sengoku United, Sengoku's Order, and the like.) so that only left Saeki as their only hope, for if that boy didn't come up with anything, then the three would fight to death to get their name in the title, and we all know that that isn't going to be a pleasant thing.

* * *

Saeki had thought that he had gotten the whole business with Kentarou and the Kisarazu brothers sorted out, but as he was walking home from the grocery that afternoon, he found out that it was far from over. The nostalgic sunset was painted delicately into the warm background, and Saeki had been soaking all of this serenity up before his image had been cracked with a familiar mundane and dejected moan from behind him. Turning around with a bemused look, Saeki found himself facing a disgruntled Kisarazu Atsushi tugging absentmindedly at his ribbon.

"Atsushi?" he asked. "Did something happen?"

Normally Saeki would only see the boy on selective weekends when he was allowed to return home from St. Rudolph, so this was definitely something he wasn't expecting. However, upon closer inspection, Saeki noted something distinctively different about the boy, and it was annoying how he just couldn't place his finger on it. He racked his mind for further analysis, but no answer or even a clue to that could be found.

"Atsushi? What are you talking about?" the boy answered with a twitch that clearly showed his irritation. "I'm Ryou."

_Ah, so that's what it was_, Saeki thought. After a couple more seconds of processing, his mind crashed into a barrier. _Wait…_

"You're _who_?" Saeki demanded as he charged up to Atsushi, eh, Ryou, whoever it was, with disbelief artistically painted onto his complexion.

"I got my hair cut," Ryou said with a shrug. Then, spotting Saeki's hands full with bags, he added, "Need help?"

Saeki nodded because at the moment his voice was not cooperating with him very well. Nothing was really cooperating with his brain at the moment as it tried to fit the new piece of information to its proper place. Finding that the piece simply did not fit, he had to question again:

"You're Ryou?" True, he himself had to admit that he sounded rather stupid asking again, especially since his question had already been answered, but there was something very, very wrong about this picture that needed more reinforcement before Saeki could accept this as fact.

"Yeah," Ryou answered.

"And you cut your hair," Saeki restated, giving him a sideways glance that showed the other his baffled state and how the gears in his brain had suddenly started going in reverse.

"Yeah."

There was a bubble of silence that encased the two as they stared at each other. Ryou looked a bit melancholy over his new hairdo, and Saeki had been completely ejected into the asteroid belt by the news. He never expected this, and it was all so surreal since Ryou still had long hair since he last saw him two hours ago. He just had to ask again:

"You're Ryou?"

"Yes, didn't I say that a second ago?" Ryou sighed as he took his white cap from his tennis bag and placed it on his head as if to show Saeki that he was indeed who he claimed to be. Saeki took the next few moments to stare at Ryou, examining him from head to toe before he finally digested this chunk of information. Ryou stashed back his hat.

"Why?" Saeki asked as they began walking. He was referring to the haircut, and Ryou them knew it.

"Atsushi asked me to do something for him," Ryou answered.

The avenue they were walking down was scarce in people, and anyone who didn't know the two and the situation would assume that all was at peace. The sun glowed red and was sinking lower by the minute, gently easing into the shrouds of night. Saeki and Ryou were pulling at their own shrouds of sanity because both of them really seemed to have lost their grip onto the world.

Saeki was still finding it very hard to accept the fact that Ryou had just had about a couple feet of his hair chopped off. Ever since Saeki met the boy in their freshman year, he had never seen the boy get a single haircut, and now here he was with one, suddenly out of nowhere with no warning whatsoever.

Ryou, meanwhile, was having what Atsushi and him discussed prior on constant replay. He didn't want to listen to the conversation again and again, but it was like what happened when you got a song stuck in your head; the more you try not to think about it, the louder it goes on repeat. It was frustrating, and it was really pulling at Ryou's tolerance.

Neither of the two was really paying attention to where they were going, being lost in their own thoughts. Eventually, their steps took them to an ice cream parlor, the one where Atsushi and Kentarou were at the other day. Saeki look up at the neon sign with confusion, but Ryou went ahead inside without a sound save the 'ding!' caused by the bell above. Saeki would've let him be, but unfortunately for him, Ryou still had half of his groceries, and Saeki was in no mood to let him take those away. Seeing no other option, he followed him in. Kentarou stood there waiting for them, eh, Ryou.

"Atsushi-chan!" Kentarou cried dramatically with tears of joy streaming down his face and a couple of sparkles and bulging hearts hanging in his eyes to boot. Saeki felt as if he had just ran through a tropical storm. Was it him, or did Kentarou say 'Atsushi-_chan_'? Wasn't the boy he had been walking with _Ryou_?

"Yeah, about that," Ryou began with a sour grimace. "I-"

"I'm so sorry for doubting you! For a while today I thought you were a guy when you were a girl all along!" he wailed as he sank to his knees, hands clasped together as if begging for forgiveness. A low hiss could be heard escaping Ryou's lips.

"Yeah, like I said, I am not a gir-"

"But I would've never thought that Ryou-senpai was part of triplets… What was your other guy triplet person called again?" Kentarou went on, blowing Ryou off completely. Saeki was just standing off to the side, again unable to process the huge chunks of reality that were smacking into him. Wasn't Kentarou smart enough to know that 'Atsushi' was clearly a name designated for the Japanese _male_ population?

"Actually, we're only tw-"

"So on that account… will you go out with me?" Kentarou pleaded. Saeki staggered towards the nearest seat, unable to support himself due to shock, and Ryou looked very close to screaming bloody murder at Kentarou and hitting him on the head with a chair as well.

"I'm telling you, I'm a _guy_, and we are _twins_ and no I am _not _gay," Ryou said as calmly as he could, which was not very calm because he was on the borderline of screaming. For Kentarou, this seemed to have gone in one ear and floated right out of the other.

"So do you want to go see a movie? How about dinner? Are you free today? What about tomorrow? Friday? Or maybe-"

"I am not a girl!" Ryou stated firmly as he glared at the boy, his patience wearing very thin.

"Of course you are!" Kentarou fired back, looking quite hurt. "Are you just saying you're a guy to get rid of me?"

"No, I am a guy! Boy! Man! Male! Get it?" Ryou laid out, praying that it would finally register in Kentarou's one-way mind. An empty look told him he didn't. Ryou reached for the hem of his shirt. "Do you need proof or something?"

It was at this point that Saeki's brain kicked into action for the second time, and his instincts told him that he really needed to stop this situation or face embarrassment for the whole Rokkaku team. Quickly putting his groceries onto a nearby chair, Saeki made his way in between the two of them, putting one hand on each of the shoulders and pushing them back away from each other.

"Stop," he said, for it was the simplest thing he could say. "I won't allow you to put the team to shame in public."

"Fine," the two agreed, Ryou haughtily and Kentarou disheartened. No one argued with Saeki, the pillar of all logic and reason, even if he sounded like their parents right then.

"Can I have my groceries now?" he asked of Ryou, who looked down and found that he was guilty for carrying them, and handed them back with an apologetic nod. Saeki grabbed the other bags from the table and ushered Ryou out of the shop calling back a: "We'll talk about this tomorrow" to Kentarou, who was tracing invisible circles on the floor with shoe.

Outside, Ryou let out a sigh. Whether it was a sigh of relief or disappointment, Saeki couldn't quit decipher. The only thing he cared for now was having this situation explained to him in plain, simple words exceeding lengths no more than eleven letters. His mind was in a jumble, and the common virus called 'Confusion' had attacked much of his inner hard drive.

"You're Ryou?" he asked. He seemed to be asking that a lot today, but obviously it was a needed effort to reinsure himself he was talking to who he thought he was talking to.

"Yeah," Ryou answered, not seeming to mind confirming that yet again. "Atsushi asked me to impersonate him because he couldn't get Kentarou to stop calling him. Apparently he somehow got his number."

"Why impersonate?" Saeki asked.

"Because he thought I would be able to handle him better, and we made a deal on it."

"A deal?"

"A deal that's none of your business," Ryou told him as he began walking off. "Bye."

"Bye, Ryou," Saeki said, deciding to press the matter tomorrow so he could spend the night connecting his broken circuits. He's going to have a tough job doing that because last time he reloaded his circuits was when Yuuta permanently bleached his hair. (Pressed by Fuji of course.) Of course, that's getting of course now.

"What are you talking about?" Ryou called back with a light smirk, which puzzled the other. "I'm Atsushi."

Twins were conniving. Conniving twins broke even more wires in Saeki's mentality.

But like promised last chapter, Saeki did have a better ending to his day: his mom made him his favorite meal and then he spent a good hour and a half racking up the phone bill by pestering Yuuta while feeling nice and warm inside because for a rare change he didn't have homework that day. Wonderful day, really.

* * *

This was what written on Saeki's paper, with blue ink in neatly formed letters:

F.O.N.S.S.

N.O.F.S.S.

S.O.N.S.F.

O.F.S.N.S.

S.O.S.F.N.

They were all crossed out with righteously formed X's through them. The only two that remained that weren't dashed with unneeded blue were these two: 'Saving Our World By Overloading It With Fun Saeki Koujirou's Brigade' (S.O.S. Brigade for short, but that's officially owned by Suzumiya Haruhi who is owned by Nagaru Tanigawa.) and 'The S.N.O.F.S Project'. Fuji, Oshitari, Niou, Sengoku, and Saeki who had just come back from the Kamio-Yanagisawa-An scene stared at the paper.

"Saeki, what is this?" Fuji asked as he pointed at his paper, which was lying on the table, still slightly soggy from the spilt water. Saeki seemed to blush a bit from embarrassment.

"Oh, that. I meant to cross that out," he said as he proceeded to do so. "It was just something stupid."

"No, not that," Fuji answered, not really caring for Saeki's S.O.S. Brigade. "That."

"Oh," Saeki answered. "I saw your S.O.S. N' FUJI, and I thought that making something from our initials was a good idea."

"It reminds me of tissues somehow," Niou commented with a frown. Propping his head on the back of his hand and picking up the pen in the other, he began doodling around the only uncrossed item on the paper. No one asked what the bomb stood for, or the fluffy sheep, or even the bizarrely strange picture of the five of them holding guns. Like always, no one really wanted to know.

"Well, I still like my ideas better," Oshitari stubbornly stated, but then fell back to a more subdued mode. "But I suppose this is probably the only one we'll agree upon."

"Go with it. I'm tired of sitting," Fuji added, and there was a suddenly longing to play tennis that spread among the newly formed project.

"Alright, as long as I get to be the first 'S'." With that statement said by Saeki, the rest were unanimous. Fighting could wait, taking over the universe could wait, but no matter what, tennis still ultimately ruled their lives.


	6. Incident 6

Incident Six

In which Yanagi Juice is born,

Ryoma is the Prince of DDR,

And Oshitari's I.G.D.P.O.L.F. is realized.

* * *

The Rikkai Dai tennis practice was at full swing. Most of the first years were being drilled to no end, leaving most of them on the verge of collapsing while the ones who were getting lucky were collecting balls. Most of the second years were being pitted against the third years in lightning fast rallies leaving many of then breathless and like the first years, on the verge of collapsing. Most of the regulars were playing matches against each other and braving the danger of the newly brewed 'Yanagi Juice', which swept the club by storm and earning Yanagi a new title: The Exterminator. Of course, 'most' never justifies all, and in this case, the one left out would be Niou, who was sitting rather bored-looking off to the side with nothing to entertain his mind. Yagyuu was out that day, so his usual victim had fallen out of the picture. Normally should this happen he'd go pester Kirihara, but after sticking a bagful for crosses and amulets in his desk, he really wasn't up for the fight. As for tennis, he had had enough of that after being kicked to the dirt by Fuji yesterday. Niou decided that defeat and dirt tasted exactly the same. 

It wasn't until there was but twelve minutes left in practice did Sanada finally realized that Niou was just sitting around doing nothing. Being the responsible stand in captain he was, he couldn't let that slide by. He decided to use Yanagi's newest weapon to force the boy into action.

"Niou, get up," Sanada said, his voice booming across the courts. Everyone momentarily stopped what they were doing and concentrated on those two, hoping to see a big scene. The copyright Sanada Glare sent them back into their activities.

"I don't want to," Niou replied, rebelling against his captain and trying his luck with a glare of his own. Niou was never partial to authority figures for he found them dreadfully dull and narrow minded with their path in life consisting of one straight road. Sanada was one who fit the criteria, and Niou was in no mind to pay him any heed.

"You'll do as I say," Sanada pressed on. In truth, he wasn't really sure if he could get Niou to do anything. Usually he relied on Yagyuu for that. Even Sanada knew that the boy was untamable and skipped around from object to object he dubbed 'interesting'. He was afraid that he someday might have a 'falling out' with tennis, but lucky for him Niou found Yagyuu to cling onto to prevent that from happening.

"And if I don't?" Niou shot back. Three years of experience showed him exactly how hard to bush Sanada's buttons. Those three years paid off as Niou watched Sanada begin loosing his cool.

"You can drink a pitcher of that thing Yanagi created," Sanada answered, having nothing better to use as a threat. Making the boy run laps would just cause a distraction to the other club members as last time he ordered Niou one hundred of those, the boy spent one to eleven screaming like a madman and Sanada was forced to make him stop to save the team from having their eardrums permanently damaged.

Niou shrugged, putting on an act that he could really care less about the horrible concoction. Truthfully though, he was weary about it just as much as everyone else. Last time he checked, edible liquids were not a glowing, emerald color. Seeing how half of the club had already fallen to its terrors, Niou was in no mind to be the next victim. Though fearless in the eye of fear, his taste buds were another story altogether. There was probably only one other person who was immune to temperamental palette issues, and that was…

"Is that a Yanagi version of Inui Juice?"

Niou smirked. Right on time. Always count on Fuji to be there when needed the most. His presence should be enough to divert Sanada's attention from his punishment for being a sloth long enough to avoid having to down a pitcher of that poison, and if not, Niou had other antics to slither out of this mess unscathed. Niou made a note to repay the beaming brunette later.

"What are you doing here?" Sanada interrogated, eyes narrowing suspiciously at the boy. A Seigaku regular up in these parts of the country was a rare sight, that is to say, this was actually the first time someone from Seigaku actually came here. Sanada was no doubt surprised, but then he realized that Fuji had his sights set on Niou and not Kirihara, and that basically explained everything. Actually, Sanada's been blaming a lot on Niou these days. Find the clubroom trashed with tampons blame Niou. Discover your locker brimming with fake and cheesy love notes that have accumulated in a span of one day, blame Niou. Hell, if the world was about to be destroyed by evil Martians and Sanada found himself about to be dissected by one of their mad scientists, you can bet he'd blame Niou, even though the boy would probably have nothing to do with it. For whatever reason, if something went wrong, if you trace it back far enough, it would surely be Niou's fault one way or another. Sanada had long convinced his brain to accept this.

"Just wandering around," Fuji said with a chuckle. After seeing that Sanada didn't quite believe his story, he spilt the beans. "Actually, I have some things I wanted to discuss with your teammate." At this, Fuji nodded towards Niou's direction, and Sanada could feel a sigh coming on.

"What did he do this time?" Sanada asked, directing his displeasure towards Niou. The boy raised his arms to form an 'X', and vigorously shaking his head as he was doing so, showing Sanada that he wasn't at fault. It would be a long, long time before Sanada fell for that.

"No, he really didn't do-" Fuji was cut off when his back detected a fiery glare. Call it intuition or maybe a sixth sense, but Fuji definitely knew that there was someone with unpleasant intentions behind him. He had a pretty good idea who it was.

"You! Tell me how to beat Echizen!"

Sanada buried his head into his palm, marveling at how easy headaches came to him these days. He briefly considered downing that pitcher of Yanagi Juice in hopes that it would relieve him of his pounding head, but decided that it would probably put him in more distress. Sanada really thought that Kirihara was smarter than that, he really did. Yet now he had just embarrassed himself beyond his comprehension in front of everyone. "You! Tell me how to beat Echizen!" was just so unpractical and idiotic.

"Ah, Kirihara-kun, long time no see," Fuji said with a strained smile. Take note how he didn't say "It's nice to see you again" because Fuji was still spiteful for last time, and grudges ran long in his veins, and hard fading from his memory as well.

Kirihara just glowered at the brunette with malice as he crossed his arms in annoyance. Fuji mused briefly on how it faintly resembled Yuuta's pout, and he decided to forgive Kirihara for being so rude just because of that. Kirihara, on the other hand, was not so keen on forgetting his own set of grudges and his defeats.

"What are you doing here?" He demanded. Fuji gave him an amused look as Niou flashed him a 'you-are-being-so-uncool-now' smile.

"Shouldn't you have asked that first?" Fuji said. "And fact, Kirihara, I haven't beaten Echizen _yet_."

The 'yet' lingered while all else was digested and chucked out of Kirihara's memory. The boy no longer concerned himself with Ryoma as he focused his attention on the other guy who had demolished him: Fuji. Judging by how his eyes were flaring up, Fuji knew that Kirihara was silently campaigning for a match, but as much as Fuji would've liked to toy around with him again, his objectives allowed no such time. Pity, really. It was a rare chance to come by, getting a chance to play Kirihara again, especially after he claimed that his style has now changed.

"Anyhow, you're practice is over," Fuji observed, and as Sanada's eyes darted towards the clock on the school building, he found the brunette to be correct, and quickly went his own way to dismiss everyone as well as saving himself a piece of his own sanity.

"Right," Niou nodded.

"So, let's go." Fuji made a gesture to leave, but Niou was still staying put, which set a confused look upon Fuji. Watching the other's eyes turn towards a certain someone, Fuji got his point. "By all means, though do keep him on a leash."

* * *

"By all means, Fuji, _no_." 

"Come on Tezuka, I bet you can beat it."

"Fuji, I play tennis, not video games."

"But video games are fun, nya!"

"Eiji-senpai! When can I have a turn?"

Chaos was the ruling figure in the Fuji household. Eiji had brought over his game station along with several volumes of games, and Fuji was rummaging through his videos while trying to persuade Tezuka to take a shot at some ultra violent fighting game. Ryoma, who had at first seem reluctant to be there, was immediately lured in by the challenge and was more or less demanding a turn at the controller, which was currently dominated by Eiji. Two surprising newcomers known as Niou and Kirihara were seated in the corner, observing the Seigaku players quarrel in silence. At first, everyone was rather weary of the two, remembering their past differences, but they seemed to have fallen into their regular rhythm after they got a good dosage of video games and Fuji heckling Tezuka.

"Hey, let's watch the Titanic in English!"

"But that movie's _long_, nya!"

"I want to play, Eiji-senpai!"

"…"

"Let's form a band."

"Or maybe we should do a marathon of American soap op- a band?"

All eyes turn towards Niou emitting various emotions ranking from confusion, which came from most of them, to the extreme 'are you on crack?', which came from Kirihara. Niou bathed himself in the attention as he awaited an answer. The only answer he got was silence, and Niou didn't take silence well. Silence and him were like a cheeseburger and caviar. They don't go… at all.

"Why not?" Niou shrugged. "You guys don't seem to be getting anywhere fun."

"You know, that sound like a good-"

"No, Fuji!"

Before Fuji could even voice his opinion, he was put down by the minions of horror who were doing everything they could not to succumb to the force of Demon Lord Fuji. If they didn't nip this in the bud, for all they know, they could be living a life filled with hard rock music, screaming fan girls, and a diet of fast food forever. That was a life neither Tezuka, Ryoma, Eiji, and Kirihara didn't want to lead. They have had enough din and hubbub from tennis practice, and while Ryoma, Eiji, and Kiriharamight not mind burgers for the rest of their lives, they certainly didn't want to risk getting fat. Besides, a band with Niou and Fuji in it can be considered a band that will lead them down into the realm of the damned, and they didn't really want to spend the rest of their afterlife mopping the hallways of hell while Niou and Fuji clanked their Champagne glasses after taking the thrown from the Devil.

"Well, in that case, I guess we can play Dance Dance Revolution for the rest of the day and then we can watch anime for the night," Fuji sighed. He stole a suggesting glance at Niou and Niou shot back an 'okay' signal with a smirk. They would spare the four from their road to stardom and getting mobbed by the paparazzi, but they weren't about to let this get by Saeki, Oshitari, and Sengoku.

"I want to go first, nya!" Eiji immediately volunteered enthusiastically, shooting up from the carpet and knocking over a the fluffy pink pillow he was sitting on in the process. (Fuji had taken it from Yumiko's room.) He then directed a his challenging gaze to Ryoma, who returned it with his famous 'Mada mada dane' glow. "And I challenged you, Ochibi!"

"I'll play Tezuka next!" Fuji said, laughing merrily as he watched Ryoma prance around the mat looking quite clueless. He couldn't seem to decide if it was easier to step on it or do it the smart way of using your hands to press the pad, and all the arrows on the screen were all foreign in his eyes. Eiji, though, was completely in his element, but it didn't take long for Ryoma to catch on. Fuji had always wanted to see Ryoma dance, but was a bit disappointed to find out that the only difference between Ryoma dancing and Ryoma playing tennis was that Ryoma wasn't making any suggestive voicing and was doing a lot more action down in the booty area. Oh well. At least he'd still get a joy out of seeing Tezuka do it. It would be hilarious, all right, that is, if Tezuka didn't firmly object:

"No, Fuji, I refuse."

"But Tezuka-"

"No, Fuji."

Fuji put on his best pout as he gave his friend a gloomy face, but Tezuka did not waver. The stoic guy would rather stuff himself with canned peas for a week than put himself in the center of a contretemps, and Tezuka was not fond of anything that had been sprayed with pesticides and floating about in artificial preservatives for who knows how long. Fuji, though, always seemed to have something else tucked up his sleeve whether it was an innocent silver coin or a ferocious, hissing jackrabbit.

"But Tezuka, I owe you for last time, remember?" Fuji pleaded. "Unless you'd want to go out for dinner again?"

"…Fine…" If there was anything worse than DDR to Tezuka, it was spending another outing with Fuji. Last time it had triggered a magnitude of unbelievable scale that led to the meeting of the five, and Tezuka didn't need any more tremors to disturb his life anymore than it was already disturbed.

"Mada mada dane, Eiji-senpai." Eiji gave an enraged screech as Ryoma lavished his hard-earned victory with a smug pose and a taunting smirk. Ryoma always had a knack for picking things up quickly, and now not only was he the Prince of Tennis, Prince of Bowling, Prince of Billiards, he was also the new crowned Prince of DDR.

* * *

Ryoma loved himself. 

Eiji hated Ryoma.

"Come on, Tezuka," Fuji coaxed gently as he snaked his arm around Tezuka's and hauled him over. Though Tezuka had on his poker face, he was really trying to decide whether to implode or explode his frustration. He decided that imploding and keeping it to himself was a better tactic because- Oh no… Fuji did _not_ just picked the super-hard-ultra-impossible-level-of-doom.

Fuji loved himself.

Tezuka hated Fuji.

Meanwhile, Niou had just began a game of footsies with Kirihara, who, by shear lack of boredom, followed Niou's lead and began striking back with a combo of his own. Who knew that stepping on each other could prove so hard? At least, it was hard for Kirihara. Niou got his win easily by poking Kirihara's head when he wasn't looking and then stamp on his foot once and for all.

Niou loved himself.

Kirihara hated Niou.

And then everyone eventually switched their accumulating hate to Fuji when he made them sit through the whole first season of Sailor Moon for the entire night, (yay!)and they weren't even planning on staying over. The only thing that kept them from sleeping was he fact that Fuji had cranked up the volume so loud it made the ground vibrate and that the remote was no where in sight and that Fuji was carefully guarding the array of buttons lodged in the TV. It wasn't so bad if they shut their eyes and crammed pillows up against their head and screamed 'la-la-la' in their heads, but after hours and hours of hearing 'moon prism makeup' over and over and over again, it got quite maddening. Fuji was glad his parents and Yumiko were out for the night because it wasn't the most pleasant of sights the next morning. Tezuka made a note to himself not to ever help Fuji again unless he was sure that the other was on the brink of death.

* * *

(Here's some fun with AU, part one of thirteen. It doesn't pertain to the Incidents in any way. Just another senseless omake where Oshitari's power is absolute.)

* * *

I.G.D.P.O.L.F. XIII

Chronicle XIII

* * *

The members of the I.G.D.P.O.L.F. XIII minus number IX, and II, were gathered around on floor zero of Devious Manor, where they were currently huddled together around their leader, the great, deviousOshitari Yuushi. The floor was dim, but not dreary or damp as you might think, and lit with hundreds of candles flickering wilding. It was built in an elegant gothic style with an enormous chandelier hanging above their heads, but that remained unlit, keeping the members in shrouds of darkness. It wasn't like they needed the darkness to cover them, though. Oshitari had issued them all 'uniforms', which consisted of a dark cloak with a zipper running from their necks to their ankles along with a hood, black boots, and matching gloves to go with it. Needless to say, not all of the members were quite happy with the attire, but no one dared object to Oshitari. No matter how many subtle hints they leave to him about how uncomfortable it was, how hard it was to move around in it was, and no matter how much it resembled a retarded dress it was, Oshitari would have none of it, quite proud of his first and hopefully last fashion contribution. 

"Where's IX?" Oshitari asked, brows knit in displeasure as his eyes scanned the circle. He knew that II never bothered to show up, but it was rare for IX to be missing. Oshitari rather liked the boy. He was probably one of the only ones in the manor that could actually cook. He himself never attempted to go anywhere near the kitchen after the failed attempt at making stir fry and ended up with a hunk of ash and the microwave exploding.

"Oh, Marui? He's-"

"Refer to him as IX, XIII!" Oshitari barked. XIII gave him a dirty look from under his hood, which actually came in quite useful for hiding facial expressions, or their whole face for that matter. Oshitari was always so finicky about keeping their identities a secret from the endless amounts of people trying to kill them, so he adapted the Roman numerals into the concept and forced them to call each other by their respective number. Of course, no one really cared because the whole world already knew their identities, save II, after Niou/XIII literally strode into the capital during New Year's Eve last week and posted all of their pictures along with a mini-profile for all eyes to feast on. No doubt Oshitari was enraged, (Even though now his dream of gaining fame and power have been more or less fulfilled.) and after finding out, he had promptly demoted Niou from III to XIII. In some minds, it was probably Niou's intention in the first place, because it's a well-known fact that besides Oshitari's floor, XIII's floor was the only other floor with a working air-conditioner and heater.

You see, along with being finicky about their identities, Oshitari was also big on privacy, and so with a manor of colossal size at his disposal, he had assigned them each floors that correlated with their rank from I, Oshitari, at the top, and XIII, Niou, above ground floor. Yes, _floors_. Each member actually had a whole floor that was like a house in some ways that came fully equipped with all your living needs like bedrooms, kitchens, bathrooms, and in come cases, even a pool. Unpractical, but what else would you put on a sixty-six point six acre of land? Back to the point…

"Marui's suffering from food poisoning," Niou went on, and he could just imagine the looks on the other member's faces underneath their hoods. Everyone knew that Marui had a reputation of being the best thief in their ranks after he had managed to enter Oshitari's place and deplete his entire collection of cheesecake while not even the cunning XII, Ryoma, could enter. They also knew that he had a high-tolerance for expired produce, known for eating out-dated roll cakes, candy from when he was four, and even ice cream that had melted and was refrozen. When they all heard that he of all people was suffering from food poisoning, they were quite surprised.

"Right, anyhow…" Oshitari was also known for his uncaring attitude to attendance. As long as there was at least one person there, he would commence because in a place like this, word travels around fast. "Yesterday, there have been numerous reports of enemy infiltration upon my property."

VI snorted.

"_The_ property," Oshitari corrected, refusing to use 'our'. "There have been numerous reports of enemy infiltration upon the property, so beginning today until further notice, we will begin watch duty."

"What? They've bypassed my shields?" X asked. "That shouldn't be possible."

"Quite possible. Apparently your shields have a glitch on them," Oshitari went on, clearly quite displeased. "And apparently I was to only one out there last night kicking them out."

"Do we all have to go? Or is it in shifts?" IV inquired.

"Shifts of two for the entire night," Oshitari stated. "Beginning with… III and VII."

The mood had become tense as the two were announced. It was a well known fat that III and VII did not get along well at all, and putting the two of them together was like calling for the downfall of the world. Why their leader, who was for the most part, calm, cool, collected, and cerebral had chosen that pair they really didn't know. As far as they were concerned, it was the two most horrible people to set up together as an example for the only example they'll make of it would be bad one ending up with either someone hurt or soon will be… but perhaps that was for the better when it came to crushing bugs.

"It'll be my pleasure," III said darkly, though by the tone of his voice dripping sarcasm, you know it was far from the case.

"As is mine," VII replied as well, matching III's tone. Oshitari smirked. How he loved causing drama. After all, being evil all day long did get boring eventually.

* * *

XII, Ryoma, was rather unhappy about the whole 'guard duty' thing, even though it wasn't even his turn. He was rarely getting any sleep these days because it seemed that XI was always up until three in the morning moving furniture and mumbling incoherent words to himself when doing so. Even though Ryoma knew somewhere in his mind that the mumbling wasn't really there, your brain tends to play illusions on you like a heat wave cause mirages in the desert. To say the least, even though he was happy to have been bumped up from the lowest rank, he was unhappy to have to have packed his place and left. At first he thought it wouldn't be so bad because Ryoma had thought that the higher the rank you are, the better rooms you got, but apparently that wasn't the case when he found out that XI had broken every appliance on his floor and that there was no damn air conditioning or heater and to top it all of, the plumbing was screwed! Though the manor seemed like a dark and dreary place from the outside, it got fairly musty and hot inside during the day, and below freezing at night. Ryoma didn't really want to question XI to why there was an excess of tampons jamming up the toilet because considering how XI is a guy, it was a pretty disturbing matter. 

However, the most irking matter as it is was the former III living right below him. He didn't know how IV and II lived with him blasting heavy metal music with satanic messages encoded into it if you played it backwards, which Niou often did…. All through the night. It was a wonder how Ryoma actually got any sleep at all, and he barely managed. He was briefly considering going down to his original floor to tell his former superior to shut up when his door suddenly clicked open reveling VIII. Apparently, the locks failed to work as well.

"What do you want, Kiraku?" Ryoma muttered, definitely not in the mood for conversing at this late hour. He was cold, he was miserable, and there was no heater. All he wanted to do was crawl into bed with a couple of hot water bottles before he was reminded that the toilet had screwed up all of the water system on that floor.

"Can't sleep," the boy said darkly. "Mizuki's room is too… _lavender_, and it smells like women's perfume."

Though Oshitari insisted they addressed each other by their respected numbers, the members all ditched the concept when he wasn't around. To say it frankly, it made them seem incredibly dull calling someone 'ex-ay-ay' or 've-ay-ay-ay', and it got to be quite the tongue twister when they were chatting in a hurry.

"So what do you want me to do about it?" Ryoma asked. Kiraku purposely avoided his gaze as he shifted uncomfortably in place. Ryoma saw that he had hauled along a sleeping bag and a pillow. Without the other speaking, Ryoma already knew what he wanted. Ryoma was not happy.

"I was wondering if I could crash here until I get my place remodeled," Kiraku stated. No use beating around the bush. You always had to be blunt with Ryoma or else he'd just blow you off. Normally, Ryoma would've blown him off, but considering how the two of them were the youngest of the bunch and Ryoma didn't want to suffer the horrible presence of Niou and Shinji alone, he decided to share his place.

"It's not pleasant, but whatever."

* * *

Shinji, XI, was not in the best of moods. Not only had Oshitari made him and Kiraku swap positions for reasons unbeknownst to him, he found that there was an excess amount of beakers and test tubes and beret clamps and tripods and just about ever piece of lab equipment you could ever name in the previous XI's floor. It was like walking through a mountain of glass every time Shinji tried to enter a room, and he sincerely hoped that X would come and pick up his stupid equipment already. 

Wait, actually, Shinji didn't.

A sudden thought came to the boy as he realized that he had complete power here to obliterate X's lab before it could be relocated. Of course, X could probably get more of them, but it would spare everyone in the house a week or two of horror from his dreaded creation of punishment: 'X-Juice'. Well, actually, it was called 'Inui-Juice', but Oshitari was always picky about the numbers, even in a private matter like that. Anyhow, Shinji had the power, and he felt it surging through him. Now the only question was 'to do, or not to do'?

Shinji decided to do, which ended up being what Ryoma supposed to be 'moving furniture' from above.

* * *

Meanwhile on floor one, belonging to Niou, the heater was put on full blast as Niou laid on his bed with content smile. His philosophy was that if he couldn't make the heater come to him, then he'd go to the heater, and now here he was with his beloved heating system and mighty proud to have finally snatched it. Raising a can of soda to the air, Niou muttered a silent toast to his brilliance before downing every last drop. Niou felt that he was in pure bliss. There was the heater, there was the soda, and there was Kiraku and Ryoma's snarky little faces at his doorway screaming at him to turn down the volume could it get any better? 

"Turn it down!" Ryoma screamed across the awful din. Though Niou could make out what he was saying, but chose to ignore it and give him a smirk in compensation. Neither of the two was happy with the response. In fact, they were infuriated even more. Kiraku was known to have a temper when sleep deprived, and Ryoma who Oshitari had picked up at a temple wasn't very partial to loud noises, or any kind of noise in general. Kiraku tried a more aggressive tactic.

"As your seniors, we _order_ you to turn it down!" Kiraku hollered. So what if he was older and the previous III? He was XIII now and by Oshitari's code, they should be able to order him around by all means.

"Make me," Niou shot back, and for Ryoma and Kiraku who were in desperate need of sleep, did the only thing they could do: tattle. Not even they were stupid enough to know that Niou was a master at the magical arts and could have them literally weaved up and suspended in a cocoon of fire with a snap of his fingers. Ryoma and Kiraku were cold, but they weren't that desperate for some heat.

* * *

Saeki, IV, was awoken by a horrible string of 'ding-dongs' and front door assaults. Here he was, resting after a day of unpacking and cleaning out the refrigerator of III, and then suddenly in the middle of the night out of the blue came these abnormal banging that he could really do without. Saeki was one whom people rarely bothered because they rarely had issues with him, and he pretty sure that it wasn't a swarm of bounty hunters trying to capture him. For one, for them to get across Fuji and Mizuki would be quite the feet, even if the two often quarreled just about every second that was allotted to them. For another, for them to have cleared the floors all the way up to his level would be quite impossible to overcome in such a short period of time, especially with Niou and his love of fire waiting for them on the first floor. Still, just for precautionary, Saeki grabbed his favorite sword and proceeded to the door, yawning. 

"Saeki-san, tell Niou to turn down his music!" Kiraku and Ryoma pleaded with dead serious eyes. Saeki yawned again. Apparently, self defense mechanisms weren't needed. Nonetheless, the presence of it was enough to intimidate Ryoma and Kiraku.

"How come your swords get longer every time we see you with one?" Ryoma mumbled.

"Well, you don't see me with them often, do you?" Saeki asked, and the two had to admit that it was true. They rarely got to see the higher ups anyhow, but Saeki was an exception because he was the one who kept the peace and the ones who Ryoma and Kiraku tattled to because he was the only one who ever seemed to help them.

"Anyhow, what's this about Niou?" Saeki went on, eager to get this over with so he could sleep.

"Oh, right," Kiraku said sheepishly. "Well, he seems to have hooked up his favorite heavy metal to extreme loudspeakers, and we can't sleep."

"You can't?" Saeki asked dubiously. "I thought you have Mizuki's room."

"Yeah, but this guy here doesn't like purple so he went down to my place," Ryoma said. Saeki nodded to show he understood and without another word, he walked out into the elevator section and hit the button for Niou's room. Yes, even though it's an old manor, Oshitari would die before he'd walk up those steps. Besides, elevators were so much more convenient.

Little did the three know what Niou was going to greet them with.

* * *

Marui's stomach was feeling a bit better after the bowl of porridge he had VI, Shiraishi, cook up for him, but he still felt a bit on the queasy side. He was still grateful that the boy would take the time to visit him and help him out though, because he really didn't expect anyone to. Saeki usually would've taken the time to do so, and occasionally Niou, (the made things even worse, though) but Marui knew that Saeki was clearing away his floor and Niou was probably taking his sweet pleasure annoying Ryoma. Surprised he was when Shiraishi popped up. 

"Thanks for coming to visit," Marui said as he rubbed his stomach contently. Give it a little more while to digest everything and he'd be good as before. Shiraishi answered him with a smile and a:

"You're welcome, but I only did it so I wouldn't be stuck with Shinji for guard duty." Marui could really care less he did it mostly for his own gain because that's what everyone at the manor basically did. See an opportunity to get on top, you did it. See someone in trouble but no profit for you, just walk on by. (Saeki could take care of the 'being nice' business.)

"Guard duty?" Marui questioned. He had missed the meeting, so this must have been what popped up. Oshitari had been nice enough to send him a flyer, but Marui wasn't really in the mood for reading pages and pages of pointless text mainly depicting Oshitari's 'great awesomeness' and hardly anything about what was really important.

"Yeah, Inui's shield was inefficient, and it seems some enemies got onto our property yesterday," Shiraishi said. "So Oshitari has posted us for guard duty until further notice."

"And you picked Shinji?" Marui asked. There was no one in the right mind who would honestly pick Shinji, who blabbered endlessly if given the chance, and if there wasn't a chance, he'd make one, which made the whole thing very frustrating. On top of that, Shinji was renowned for his mind reading capabilities, which proved to be even more annoying since he's rambling about your inner most emotions to you.

"No, we drew lots after Oshitari announced Fuji and Mizuki were together," Shiraishi said. "Since you were sick, I got stuck with Shinji.

"He put those two together? Is he wanting a death?" Marui said, honestly surprised. After a moment though, he cracked a smile. "Sounds like Oshitari, though."

"True enough," Shiraishi laughed.

Marui was about to answer that when suddenly the door snapped open and in stomped Sengoku, his usual lucky-go-happy face turned upside down. He looked troubled, and from that Marui as Shiraishi would infer that something was up, as there was always something up when you stick that much testosterone under one roof.

"Shiraishi! There you are!" Sengoku gasped. "Niou's set the first floor on fire! Go put it out!"

Shiraishi sighed. How he hated being the one constantly having to clean up after Niou.

* * *

"It's a wonderful night, _Mizuki-kun_." 

"Yes, very much so, _Fuji-kun_."

Malice dripped in every one of heir syllables as Mizuki and Fuji smiled at each other through much force. Internally, they were glaring at each other, wishing they could tear out the other's insides and through them to the wild dogs to devour. Yet they were forced to work together, both bound under Oshitari's contract.

"There are no clouds in the sky, _Mizuki-kun_."

"No, there aren't, _Fuji-kun_."

Where were enemies? Where was the action? What was the point in spending time with each other when both hated it beyond anything else?

"That dart nearly missed your head, _Mizuki-kun_."

Yes it did, _Fuji-kun_."

Ah, here they came. What a pathetic bunch. It didn't take long for Fuji to blast through them and Mizuki to skewer through them. In fact, they were still continuing their pleasant conversation during the elimination process. It was all child's play to them.

"I hope you die, _Mizuki-kun_."

"I hope _you_ die, _Fuji-kun_."

* * *

For as far as Ryoma, Kiraku, and Saeki could see, there was fire, fire, and more flames of fire. If it weren't for Kiraku preventing the flames from burning them all to ash, they would probably be, well, burned to ashes. Niou wasn't one to think of casualties. If they couldn't survive this wave of fire, they didn't deserve to be in the group. 

"I can't believe I'm holding a guy's hand," Ryoma sighed unhappily. Kiraku gave him a reproachful look while Saeki was trying to swat away the flames and reasoning with Niou at the same time.

"You're just one hand away from death and you're complaining?" Kiraku grumbled. Ryoma scoffed and remained silent as he watched Saeki work his magic.

"Niou! Stop it!" Saeki screamed.

"Why should I?" Niou fired back, quite literally as he sent an fireball straight at them. The three braced for impact, and it did feel rather weird to have not felt anything at all, but better that than getting scorched, right?

"You're going to burn the whole place down!" Saeki reasoned.

"Wouldn't be the first time."

The trio gazed at their saviors, which was composed of Inui, X, Marui, IX, Sengoku, V, and Shiraishi, VI, all huddled together in Inui's little bubble that prevented them from experiencing painful burns. Inui might be renowned for his juices, but he was even better known as the one you hid behind when someone is out to get you because if anyone could set up a barrier, it was Inui. Didn't take long for Ryoma, Kiraku, and Saeki to burst into the bubble.

"Thank god I don't have to hold a guy's hand anymore," Ryoma said as he scrubbed his hand against his shirt, eh, cloak-thingy. If they were in a different situation, Kiraku would think Ryoma was insulting his hand.

Meanwhile, the older guys were doing the obvious task of putting out Niou's flames. Inui was isolating portions of it in their own little cage while Marui froze them in time to prevent them from spreading and Shiraishi put them out with water. Saeki and Sengoku concentrated on subduing Niou by doing it the only way they knew how: jumping on top of him and pinning down his hands. It proved to be a very hard task with Niou flailing around.

"Why is it always my fault?" he screamed as Sengoku got him handcuffed with lightning and Saeki making him immobile with his magical plant friends.

"Because you're always at fault," the seven chorused. Niou frowned, but in reality, he was smirking like crazy. He had won.

* * *

"He won your bet, I." 

"I knew he would, II."

"Are you disappointed?"

"No, it was expected of him, naturally."

"Of course."

"Yes, everything turns out exactly as I wish it."

"They're going to complain about moving again."

"Let them complain then. The more conflicts, the more amusement."

Oshitari Yuushi was a man to fear.

* * *

For those of you who have forgotten the beloved Shiraishi and Kiraku, they are the captain of Shitenhouji and the guy from Midoriyama who lost to Ryoma, respectively. 


	7. Incident 7

* * *

Incident Seven

In which Saeki is nearly killed by toast,

Issues are resolved,

And Ryoma is demoted

* * *

Saeki awoke on a note that could be described as 'one small step for a common breakfast item, and one giant leap to near litigation for Amane Hikaru'. Saeki had left his window open last night because it was the kind of night where air conditioning wasn't really needed, but too humid and stuffy to leave the windows shut. He had expected that a couple of mosquitoes might get in, but a piece of rock hard and burnt toast that came flying into his room was one thing Saeki wasn't anticipating. Maybe a bagel because the guys living across the street were having agreement issues a while back and were at a lack of ammunition to chuck at each other, but definitely not toast.

"It's like what? Four in the morning? And you're trying to put me in a coma with a concussion using toast?" Saeki yawned as he swept a heavy hand through his hair. It was getting a bit unruly in the back, and Saeki made a note to straighten that out as soon as he flopped back onto bed and caught two more hours of shuteye. Well, actually, Saeki could really just fall asleep leaning against the windowsill… Yeah… that sounded very nice about now…

"Ryou's about to commit suicide by consuming a lethal dose of cold medicine!" Amane exclaimed with an added but softer 'pfft' after the initial statement. (Ryou… chishiryou… hahaha…) With the mentioning of 'Ryou', 'suicide', and 'cold medicine', (Saeki was never partial to any kind of drugs in general.) Saeki was forced to swat away sleep with a mental fly swatter as he jolted downstairs in a blink of an eye after hastily jamming on a random shirt and a pair of jeans.

"Hey, you're wearing that shirt I gave you." Luck was not on Saeki's side as he realized that the random shirt he had fished out of the corners of his dresser was a rather chewed down, grease stained covered, and soda marked deep blue T-shirt that Amane had given him last month after they went to a burger joint. Saeki had never seen anyone down burger like that. Must have been quite hard eating while trying to tell jokes and ending up spitting food as far as three tables down right into a little girl's cup of Jell-O©. Saeki resented he fact that he had to pay for that and Amane had decided that his shirt was worth the trouble. Saeki thought it had long died in his dresser, but apparently he was wrong. Anyhow, that wasn't the real issue here. The real issue here was about the lethal dose of cold medicine.

"What's this about Ryou?" Saeki demanded as he gripped Amane by the shoulders and stared at him square in the eye with a serious demeanor. In response, Amane blinked dumbly under Saeki's close inspection.

"Oh, Bane and I were going to get some breakfast and we were wondering if you could pay for us." It finally dawned on Saeki that this whole thing was a hoax to get him out of 'groggy mode' and to leech off of his wallet at the same time. Amane must have known his gears didn't kick in so well right after he woke up.

"At four in the morning?" Saeki questioned skeptically. Sure, people wake up early, but no one in their right mind had breakfast before sunrise. …Oh, right, Amane didn't have a right mind like many of the people he was associating with these days. Yuuta would be disappointed. Saeki had promised him long ago when they were little children that one day he'd find Yuuta the 'bestest and prettiest bride and the whole widest world', but hanging around lunatics all day wasn't exactly a good place to search, not that Yuuta would really be concerned with these things anymore. Amane, on the other hand was very much so concerned about something else revolving around smashing vases and Kamio, namely, breakfast. (Hahaha…lame….)

"Well, yeah," Amane answered as if it were perfectly normal and not completely ludicrous and absurd to be mentioning such things at the present hour.

The mind of a teenage boy wasn't very hard to figure out. It was run by food, it is ran by food, and it will forevermore be running by food. When you're hungry, you get food. When you want to get food, you want to get good food. When you want to get good food, it was expensive. When things get expensive, you leech off of your friends. It wasn't a complicated process, and Amane had long mastered every aspect of the Food Cycle.

"I'm going back to bed," Saeki grumbled as he began trudging back into his house. Amane stopped him quickly with two agile steps and a business card.

"It has strawberry choco parfait super deluxes," Amane taunted. Saeki got the point around then, and it basically revolved around unable to escape, a huge bill and maybe another shirt as consolation. He decided to give in, figuring that there should be a good reason why Bane would want to go to a restaurant in Tokyo. …Wait, Tokyo? Were they _serious_? Saeki didn't want to go to Tokyo at this hour on a school day, and even if he did, they don't expect him to…

"Pay for our train tickets, okay?"

Amane better start praying he had something better to sacrifice than a shirt this time.

* * *

Saeki didn't know whether to laugh or just stare at where Amane and Bane had dragged him all the way from the comforts of his snuggly bed. Ironically, it was the same café that the he and his four loony friends have been having their conferences together at, and Saeki couldn't help but wish Sunday would come tomorrow, not four days from now. It was easy to get lost in your daydreams and musings, and it took a good kick in the back of the head to snap him out of his daze.

"I didn't say anything!" Saeki said defensively as his hand flew to nurse his throbbing head while his eyes shot Bane a forlorn look like a little puppy deprived of its chewy bone. Bane gave him a sign of apology.

"Sorry, but you looked like you were about to cross over," Bane said regrettably as he and Amane each took one of Saeki's arms and lugged his raggedy body into The Café. A brief thought of if An would be here flashed through his head, and the irony continued as he spotted her working her way with some customers at the counter. (Apparently, no one cared much about school days.) Their eyes met briefly for a moment, and An channeled her confused looks into Saeki as Saeki channeled 'my teammates' into her. An took what she got and began wrapping up her chat with the other customers. It was obvious that Amane and Bane weren't the only crazy ones to wake up this early for breakfast, or in Amane's case, his strawberry choco parfait super deluxe.

"Saeki-san, I didn't expect you to be here this early," An said as she bounded over to them. Saeki muttered a soft "good morning", still a bit weary from the lack of sleep, but such a thing did not slip by Amane and Bane's ears.

"Hey, Saeki, you know her?" Bane whispered as he gave An curious looks. Normally, Amane would join in on the interrogation, but he was currently too busy ordering. ("Hmm… give me one of that, two of these, one of these things… and for the others, hmm… two of that… three of this… and… oh, five of that, no, make that six, no seven. Yeah, seven of that.")

"Yeah. She's Tachibana's younger sister, remember?" Saeki said, suppressing a yawn.

"Yeah, but it seems like you know-know her."

"What?"

"As in, is she your girlfriend?"

Saeki shot him a 'no, now let me _sleep_' look before his forehead connected with the table with an audible 'thunk'. Now that all the clamor aboard the train were finally out of his head, Saeki would like nothing better than to slowly drift off into dreamland where he might be able to resume that pleasant dream that featured him, a cow, and a bald spatula. Yes, it sounded like a very fine thing to do.

It would've been a fine thing to do had he not been awoken by Amane shoving mouthfuls or his strawberry choco parfait super deluxe into his mouth at speed probably exceeding the rate that Shinji mumbled about nothingness not rudely awakened him. Saeki took a moment to glance around the table, and his eyes immediately shot up at just how much was crammed into the small space. There was an array of American breakfast item that included not burnt toast, stacks of pancakes topped with blueberries, and miniature cinnamon rolls. There was also an alarming amount of desert items ranging from pie to ice cream to smoothies, but the hardest blow that was to come to his wallet was the overabundance of Amane's favorite strawberry choco parfait super deluxe. There were so many of these calorie excessive treats that they were forced to use another table to house them before they embarked on their journey to Amane's stomach. No wonder they got Saeki to pay. That was at least 3,000 yen down the drain right there alone, and who knew how much the other stuff was going to add up to! The two had better be prepared to pitch in to the effort because Saeki certainly didn't have that much to go around.

"Saeki, you have to try this!" Banes exclaimed as he shoved a spoonful of an extremely sweet, extremely gooey, and extremely gross something in his mouth. It took all of Saeki's control power to force himself to swallow it and not have it come back the other way because it came very close to doing so.

"What was that?" he asked, fully awake by now, though not in the best of moods. He had seen better start to his day.

"Sponge cake with peach syrup and orange peels," Bane managed to say through a mouthful of what he had just mentioned. Saeki decided not to tell him it was absolutely gross and disgusting and that they really shouldn't have ordered it, even if it was Amane who had ordered everything. Speaking of which:

"So what's the real reason I'm here?" Saeki asked as he picked up a cup of green tea. Things had finally been ordered and sorted out in his brain cells for him to begin digging deeper into the source of issues. Amane took a needed moment to swallow before answering:

"We heard that Ryou was dating Kentarou and that they were coming here. We decided to stake out."

Saeki sputtered on his drink, sending tea over much of the food, including Amane's strawberry choco parfait super deluxe. After a moment of staring sadly at his treat, Amane decided that a bit of tea wasn't really that big of a deal to fret over and resumed shoving it down his system. Bane seemed to have remained calm and collected as Saeki began demanding answers.

"Where did you hear _that_?" he asked as he took a handful of napkins and began dabbing at the drops of tea everywhere, and wasn't it Atsushi they were suppose to be talking about? Confounded twin issue.

"Kentarou told us," Bane answered as he took a handful of napkins as well and began helping Saeki clean up. "Well, actually, he showed us a picture."

Saeki really didn't know what to make of the situation. He was lost. Very, very lost. Hopefully, the recent arrival of Atsushi (or was it Ryou?) trailed by a seemingly lost puppy known as Kentarou would clear some things up. Saeki had always thought that eavesdropping was an intrusion on other's sacred privacy, but he had convinced himself that if it concerned the team, then he was more than welcome to do so. The mind was so easy to trick itself.

"Atsushi-chan, what did you want to tell me?" Kentarou said happily as Atsushi placed himself down at a table. Kentarou followed in suit. Even now if Saeki suddenly regained his conscience, it wouldn't really matter if he was eavesdropping or not because Kentarou's volume assured that ever nook and cranny of The Café could ear his desperate voice.

"Do you love me?" Atsushi asked in deadpan. Amane and Bane craned their necks to get the full scene.

"Of course I do! I love you more than anything in this world or this galaxy or this universe!" Kentarou exclaimed. Atsushi remained emotionless.

"Then if you love me, accept the fact that I am male and never show yourself in front of me ever again."

Kentarou gave a melodramatic gasp as if Atsushi had just proposed he go jump off Tokyo tower wearing a flamboyant pink dress. Atsushi, on the other hand, looked at him stonily without whiffle-waffle. Bane and Amane's eyes were glued to them as if they were obsessed with the soap-opera effect. Saeki was unimpressed and tired.

"I'm going over," Saeki stated as he abruptly stood up. Bane and Amane gave him astonished looks as he began walking over to the two.

"You can't do that!" Amane said frantically as one hand caught the hem of the shirt he had given Saeki and the other in mid process of shoving more strawberry choco parfait super deluxe. "You'll ruin it!"

"I didn't come all the way to Tokyo just to witness this and not intervene," Saeki said responsibly as he continued on his way. Bane and Amane just stared at each other and decided that if it meant more drama, they could handle it. An, who had heard all the commotion, had came over to take Saeki's seat as she too engaged herself in the soap-opera parody in front of her. In her opinion, all that was missing was somebody's unknown son or daughter to add to the mix.

"No! Don't leave me, Atsushi-chan!" Kentarou cried. "I came all this way for you!"

"Well, you wasted your- Saeki?"

A bewildered and slightly embarrassed Atsushi and a teary eyed Kentarou turned their attention off of the other and directed it to Saeki, who stood in front of them with a troubled expression and hands crossed firmly in front of his chest, and exclamation that demanded a well needed explanation.

"Kentarou, just give up," he sighed, already as sick at the Kisarazu twins were on this issue. He felt empathy for his captain, though. It was like one of those things you'd like to cling onto no matter what, even if you had to deceive yourself to be able to treasure it. He felt pity and respect for the Kisarazu twins for having to deal with this.

"B-but…" Kentarou felt now as if two people had just proposed he jump off Tokyo tower wearing a flamboyant pink dress. He felt very hurt.

"Atsushi, Ryou, whoever you are…" Saeki began.

"I'm Atsushi," Atsushi said helpfully.

"Please explain this," Saeki said briskly. For a brief moment he felt like a parent disciplining his kids, and a sense of frustration overcame him. He was too young to have to be dealing with this! He should be in bed now, damnit!

* * *

"Oh, I get it now."

Saeki had just finished his overly long and belated explanation of the situation to Bane and Amane, who seemed more or less satisfied with the really unneeded trip to Tokyo for breakfast. (Fiction has its ways.) The vice-captain was more than relieved that this fiasco has finally been settled (before dinner was a plus as well) because he suspected that had this gone on any longer, his telomeres would be all but nearly chipped away. Maybe now after all of this he could finally have some peace of mind.

It turned out that Ryou had just about nothing to do with this incident, and all of it was just Atsushi's careful and meticulous planning. It was a relief to find out that Ryou didn't actually chop off those long locks because that would have caused a lot of confusion, and Saeki was just about fed up with that word. So the person yesterday was Atsushi, the person here today was Atsushi, and the person who Kentarou honestly for reasons unbeknown mistook as a girl was Atsushi too. You'd think it'd be Ryou though, but sometimes desperation really makes the brain forge illusions. Of course, after finally being convinced, Kentarou had begged for apology and proceeded to go off to school with a dejected look. It took a lot of comforting on the train back, and Saeki was still convinced that it was a waste of time and money to have had come here. At least the mess was cleared, right?

And that was the long and short of it. (The long being everything but the previous paragraph and the short that said paragraph.)

* * *

I.G.D.P.O.L.F. XIII

Chronicle XII

* * *

Ryoma was very, very, very (add a little more 'very's here) unhappy. Not only had he been _demoted_ and not gotten a wink of sleep last night with all the Niou troubles, Oshitari had announced new housing arrangements, and Ryoma was once again _demoted_. As if that wasn't bad enough, tonight he had guard duty… with _Shinji_, AND not only was he _demoted_, he had to live with Inui acid seeping through his ceiling and a _demotion_. Hell, even the heater wasn't working properly since Niou fried it with his fireballs last night and he got _demoted_, and just about everything on the floor was burned. …Did we mention the _demotion_? If anything, he should've been _promoted_!

But the single most horrible thing that was even worse than a demotion had to be this: no heater or AC… _again_! Ryoma was experiencing a teen-life crisis, and he wasn't sure just how exactly to handle this dilemma. He needed guidance, and needed it badly, and even though it was going to be deathly embarrassing, Ryoma wasn't sure how else to dissolve his road to mental breakdown. It would be a risky move, but Ryoma had decided that out of everybody, his best bet was to confront Fuji Syusuke. …Wait, what was he _thinking_? That would be like _suicide_!

…Oh well…

* * *

Fuji was in a horrendous mood. Not only had Sengoku thoroughly trashed his place with candy wrappers and chip bags, he found that that he couldn't throw any of them out as of yet because they all said that there was a huge profit for the one who got the lucky one, and it was obvious that Sengoku had miraculously beaten all the odds in the universe to have collected so many without any intention. Fuji couldn't wait to mail them in and then use to money to buy himself a half-dozen electrical fans and a half-dozen stove heaters to regulate his floor's wild temperature attitudes. Only another week and a half before he got his reply. Fuji was at a loss of what to do in that time. Fortunately for the brunette, Ryoma provided just the distraction at just the right time. Should they have been on slightly better terms, (or as good of as terms as a group of sadists could get) Fuji might've thought about thanking him.

"You," Ryoma said provocatively. "Make me feel like I'm worth something."

Well, that was something Fuji didn't expect. Under different circumstances and had he not known Ryoma better, he would've thought he meant for Fuji to give him a hug, but knowing how their egos alone could inflate about a thousand nine inch balloons together, Fuji had the sense that this was Ryoma's way of expressing desperate attention needing. Fuji decided to play along.

"Would you like me to write 'I'm worth something' and pin it to your back?" Fuji asked with a smile. Ryoma felt a shiver run down his spine. When Fuji said 'pin it', you know he really meant to 'pin it', as in thumbtacks or the occasional nail for the really hardheaded people. While it was kind of funny to see him do that to Mizuki, Ryoma was in no mind to become Fuji's life-sized voodoo doll.

"Actually, I wanted you to teach me something worthwhile so I can get promoted," Ryoma said. No use beating around the bush and never attacking it. A better term, though, would be stranded in a desert dying of thirst but refusing to drink from the canteen offered to you by a humble explorer because he probably placed his mouth on it. It was no use knocking down the small thing if the big issues aren't your main targets.

"What do you want me to teach you?" Fuji asked. His devious mind was already beginning to get flooded with ideas on Ryoma and his little 'training session'. Actually, Fuji thought 'Passage to Doom' would suit his tastes better.

"Teach me how to get promoted," Ryoma stated impatiently. It was obvious, wasn't it? Who cared about strength and skills and tactics and all those things? All Ryoma wanted to do now was snatch away II's spot. He heard his floor was like a heater stuck inside a freezer… whatever Inui meant by that…

"Are you sure that what you want to learn?" Fuji asked, eyes suddenly flaring open to reveal their cerulean brilliance. While others might be entranced, Ryoma appeared unaffected, his gaze holding out against Fuji's.

"Whatever it takes."

Fuji smirked. "Well then, let's talk about what I gain from this."

"What do you want?" Ryoma asked, eyes narrowing. He knew this wouldn't come without a catch. "And be quick about it."

"My, my, impatient little soul, aren't we?" Fuji sighed as he leaned idly against his wooden doorframe, his arms cross to show his disappointment. "If you really want to, we can discuss it after, but I'm afraid my price will rise."

"Whatever," Ryoma shrugged. By the time Fuji demands his payment, he'd already be II and ordering _him_ around. Take that, sadist.

* * *

"Now, now, my pet, that isn't how you do it."

Ryoma was in a blind rage, but subdued by exhaustion. Lying on the cold ground unable to move a single needed muscle due to Fuji pinning him down with tremendous pressure. He did manage to twitch violently despite that— an involuntary reaction to Fuji's snide remarks. Ryoma didn't like it. Snide remarks were his specialty limited to him alone, and being called 'my pet' was just sickening and unnatural, even for Fuji.

"Stop crushing me," Ryoma managed to sputter out as he tried desperately to get his diaphragm to work for him. A shrill bit of laughter was heard from above, adding more mental strain to Ryoma's struggle, and the boy briefly wondered if this person really was Fuji. Only when he realize that Fuji was absolutely unpredictable and capable of morphing into many guises did Ryoma finally dismiss the thought.

"But I'm not even on you," Fuji said as he drifted gaily in the air, circling above Ryoma with a happy look. It was so funny to Fuji, like a big joke you couldn't help but laugh at. He took no hints of guilt in this because, after all, this was Ryoma's request.

"Then take your stupid air pressure off of me," Ryoma grumbled as he tried once again to fight against the stronger force. His attempt was futile, and Ryoma knew it.

"Say the magic words," Fuji taunted.

"Please?" Ryoma guessed. No, that wasn't right. Fuji had said 'words'. "I hate you to death?" No, not right either. "I surrender?"

"Let's talk about payment now," Fuji said as he finally released his grip on Ryoma. Fuji loved how he was able to manipulate the wind. Ryoma hated how Fuji always managed to slither out of things.

When Ryoma asked Fuji to teach him how to get promoted, all he got was a crash course on how to suck up to people and win them over with false eloquence. Fuji had obviously assumed that this wasn't what Ryoma wanted to learn, but he had no intention of teaching him anything to give him an edge in the ranking game. Fuji liked living his life as IV with the level headed Saeki below him should he run into trouble and the hot-blooded Niou above him should he be bound by boredom, and he knew that should Ryoma learn the tricks to the ropes, he would find himself with an unwanted bunch of neighbors up and downstairs. Believe it or not, Fuji was terrified and felt extremely threatened when Oshitari had picked up Ryoma, but he couldn't surpass him as of yet. Fuji would use his time wisely. Now… back to payment.

"Just tell me what you want," Ryoma sighed unhappily. He had a million reasons he could complain on, but he knew that one way or another, Fuji would get his ways.

"Number two," Fuji answered almost immediately. "I want to meet whoever that is." Ryoma shot him a queer look, telling that he was undoubtedly confused by his demand. Ryoma had thought that Fuji's request would've been much more sadistic and grander than what he had just asked of him. He had thought Fuji would've asked him to be his slave for a week, or take part with him in one of Inui's various hazardous experiments, or even just refer to him from that moment on as 'Master Fuji', but no. Fuji wanted to see Oshitari's second. How alarmingly…_odd_. Though Ryoma had never seen the man, (he assumed he was a man anyhow because it was unlikely that Oshitari would choose a girl as his second) he was sure that Fuji, who was probably Oshitari's favorite, would know who the enigmatic II was. Undoubtedly he proved wrong in this situation, and Ryoma wasn't sure which predicament was worse: him embarking on a senseless quest with the macabre Fuji, or daring to tread on sacred land known as II's den.

* * *

"Is it broken again?" Ryoma was getting rather impatient loitering around the lobby waiting for an elevator with Fuji. Currently, the glowing orb on top of the closed doors all flickered at III, and Ryoma just knew that the devious trickster was messing with the system again. Last time Niou had decided to break into the elevator's operating system, he had gracefully managed to get himself trapped in the enclosed space with a claustrophobic Mizuki, resulting in complete hysteria for I.G.D.P.O.L.F. and an earache for Niou, but just deserts. Everyone was forced to pay the price of using the stairwell as their key to getting to their rooms until Sengoku zapped it back into shape.

"Stairway it is, then."

* * *

When the two had reached the door of II, mixed emotions welled up in both of them. A plethora of curiosity blossomed in Fuji as well as an overabundance of joy. For Ryoma, a nagging sense of horrible dread and terror filled him. He felt a presence on this floor that was both chilling and frigid, and by that he meant it literally.

"Aren't you cold?" Ryoma said through chattering teeth.

"Cold?" Fuji said obliviously. Ryoma gaped at his superior. It didn't take an idiot to notice that the hallway before II's main door was a winter tortureland with its own miniature blizzard going on and a few hail balls being chucked around as well. Fuji must've been joking because surely someone bright like him couldn't miss the obvious conditions of the hall.

"Just ring the doorbell," Ryoma said as Fuji obliged.

An eerie screech, which the two presumed was the doorbell's sound, echoed through the inner chambers beyond the door, but no answer replied its wail. The two waited out in the cold for a minute, then two, then five, and by then Ryoma was already fed up. Constant jabbing at the doorbell didn't seem to help their dilemma, and neither did banging on the door. After what seemed like an eternity, Ryoma finally gave up trying to get II to come out.

"No one's there," Ryoma said. "I'm going back."

The younger boy made a move for the stairs, but was abruptly halted by Fuji jutting out one of his legs resulting in Ryoma's kissing the ice. Ryoma fumed at the prodigy, and was about to send something nasty his way when he realized something horribly horrible had occurred. Try as he might, the situation did not seem to mend itself.

"Eh! Uh-uh-eh-uh-uuuuuuuuh!"

"What was that?" Fuji asked innocently.

"Uh! Eh-eh-uh-eh!"

"Come again?"

Ryoma was sure this had been part of Fuji's plan all along. He felt a tiny flash from above, which he was quite sure was one of Fuji's favorite 5.2 mega pixel cameras, so this had to be a grand setup by the brunette. He dearly wished Fuji would be the kind person Ryoma now wished he was, but _no_ I light and airy laugh followed by the slamming of the door told Ryoma that he had in fact been deserted and tossed out. The day really couldn't have gotten any worse. He had been _demoted_, crushed by Fuji, tricked by Fuji, demoted, Fuji now had blackmail material against him, he was cold, he was angry, he was demoted, and now to add to all his list of troubles, his tongue was frozen to the hallway just outside of II's mysterious floor.

By the way, did Ryoma mention the demotion?


	8. Incident 8

* * *

Incident Eight

In which Sengoku is in a fix,

Minami is dragged into the fix,

And the weather is perfect

* * *

Sengoku was in a fix. It wasn't your everyday 'I lost my homework' fix, or the accidental 'I can't find my lunch money' fix; it was the pain-striking, horror-inducing, apocalypse-commencement type of fix. Our favorite, and only, 'Lucky' Sengoku had just lost the 'Lucky' part of himself, and he was impossibly depressed about the matter. 

Once upon a time, 'Lucky' Sengoku wasn't always the luckiest happy-go-lucky being on earth. For most of his life, he lived fortunes and misfortunes in alternate intervals like most people do. He would trip in a puddle on Monday only to discover his long lost favorite shirt that miraculously still fitted him on Tuesday. He would loose his notebook on Wednesday only to ace his test on Thursday. It was a trivial fact in his life, but Sengoku never once took his alternating fate for granted, and when he stumbled across the thing that forever changed his life, he certainly didn't take that for granted either.

Sengoku had just turned ten, and was strolling down a sunny boulevard when he happened to come across a fascinating four-leaf clover key chain, and all his plethora of incidents with serendipity started from there. He had always knew that it was just an extension to one of his good days and knew that the phase would eventually pass, but now that it did, Sengoku was in hysteria.

"Lucky-chan! Where are you?" Sengoku moaned as he ripped apart his closet and started lunging at the clean contents within, flipping through every article of clothing and upturning every pocket in hopes of finding his precious Lucky-chan. However, his precious four-leaf clover charm was nowhere in sight. A melancholic wail escaped the desperate boy.

"Kiyosumi! What are you doing?" Attention was called upon the panicked boy due to his abnormal rumbling around in his room. His sister was less than pleased with her little brother causing a racket next door while she was trying to cram in the last of her homework before heading off for school.

"It's _gone_!" Sengoku exclaimed dramatically. "_Gone_!" Sengoku's sister jotted down the last of her text and decided that whatever her brother was complaining about he could do it without her presence.

Sengoku, on the other hand, was still in utter shock at the situation, and though he would've loved more than anything to spend the rest of the day and probably his life searching for his darling four-leafed clover charmed he nicknamed Lucky-chan, school called, and the insanity of the Yamabuki tennis club depended on his sporadic presence to attain its beloved psycho stature.

Damn it! Why couldn't Muromachi be more like him?

* * *

Sengoku was having the worst and unluckiest day ever since… well, as far as he could remember. Not even the day when Momoshiro pummeled him at tennis held a candle to this. It was horrible, it was mortifying, and Sengoku actually considered crying over the loss of his precious. Since he was a guy and _the_ Sengoku Kiyosumi, he had to opt against that comforting decision. Instead, the orange-headed teen simple dejectedly sauntered off to school where he got splashed by an oncoming car and nearly got ran over by a bike. There was no finding money on the ground like usual, nor was there the happy smile that was usually plastered on Sengoku's face. Now there was only an expression that read DOOM. That and Sengoku felt a certain longing for someone to give him a box of Popsicles or something so he could momentarily forget about his bad luck.

"You look like you just got splashed by an oncoming car and nearly got ran over by a bike and now you want someone to give you a box of Popsicles or something," Muromachi said helpfully. Sengoku turned to him with a mean glare, the first he had ever given in oh-so long, and Muromachi immediately flinched at the intensity of his vice-captain's glower. From Akutsu, it would be like a long awaited 'good morning!' but coming from Sengoku seemed to spell 'death and despair, loser'. Muromachi definitely knew that something traumatic had happened.

"Did you take her?" Sengoku said in a strangely dark and morbid tone. From Akutsu, Muromachi would've interpreted it as 'why, thank you for being such a wonderful addition to my sunny happy day!', but from Sengoku, Muromachi was starting to believe that the next Exodus for Yamabuki should be arranged and underway.

"Who's 'her'?" Muromachi said, deciding to stay on the safe side of the line. Sengoku couldn't possibly be talking about a girl, because Muromachi knew better than anyone on the team that tennis has, tennis will, and tennis forevermore shall rule their lives. (At least until high school at very least.) Besides, Sengoku was too busy winning sweepstakes to pay attention to future gold diggers in the making. So if it wasn't the female population Sengoku was enraged over, than what was it?

"You took her, didn't you?" Sengoku continued in the dark and cold tone that made Muromachi extremely edgy with him. The former teen's eyes were narrowed to slits and his lips formed a foreign sneer that was completely out of his normal character, and Muromachi finally had the mind to back away slowly.

"Sengoku, who- _what_ are you talking about?" Muromachi asked. He had concluded that it had to be an inanimate object because it seemed that Sengoku was more infatuated with those things than a lot of people. When you hear Sengoku naming his rice balls at lunch 'Miki-chan' and 'Me-chan', and actually apologizing to 'Izumi-kun' the banana before eating it, you know he was on the tipping point of his own sanity and that he was clearly more interested in food than girls.

"Lucky-chan!" Sengoku exclaimed as his sinister demeanor collapsed into something very similar to a five-year-old being deprived of his favorite cartoon show. "She's gone!"

Muromachi had absolutely no idea in the whole wide world what his friend was blabbering about, but since 'Lucky' was mentioned along side a gloomy and dejected Sengoku, it didn't take long before Muromachi pieced together the puzzle to realize that Sengoku had just lost his luck to some unknown force. It was worse than he imagined. If Muromachi thought a hollering, gaudy, and downright lewd Akutsu was horrible, he couldn't possibly envision an 'Unlucky' Sengoku. Oh, the shame it shall bring upon the Yamabuki team. As if they weren't loosing bad enough!

"Sengoku! Where did you have it last?" Even Muromachi knew that the team would be obliterated if they didn't have Sengoku there. Sure, captain Minami was a lot more mature, a lot more organized, a lot more intelligent in certain areas, and a lot more responsible than Sengoku, but Muromachi knew that he was the reason that the team was still holding on, especially since the induction of Akutsu. What do you think they had Dan there for? Extra backup. Besides, Yamabuki was proud to have their one and only mascot. You sure didn't see Hyoutei with a mascot. Rikkai definitely didn't have one, and Seigaku's freshman was too fresh to count.

"It was in my pocket!" Sengoku cried back. "_This_ pocket actually! I don't know how it could be gone! I mean, it's not like it had a… hole… or… something…"

Muromachi took the ellipses as his cue to put a good forty feet of distance before him and his friend. If yawning and laughter were contagious, than surely Sengoku's pre-mental breakdown stance would reflect on Muromachi as well. In fact, the boy was finding his knees getting rather wobbly. He was also biting his lower lip, something he had refrained from doing since he found out it was generally done by the female population, and Muromachi had no height to spare being girly. Just goes to show his anxiety was starting to overtake his logic. Luckily for him, (though 'luck' would be the taboo word here) _the_ Akutsu Jin just so happened to come to his rescue, though not in the traditional 'rescue' terms.

"You!" he immediately sneered at Sengoku. "Do you know whose way you're blocking, kid? Who do you think I am? I'm Akutsu! Akutsu Jin! Got that memorized?"

Muromachi gave a low hiss. Sure, he expected so much out of Akutsu, but he really wished he 'd said something less provoking. His hopes were naïve dreams though, because for the last six month, Akutsu had introduced himself at least one hundred times over with the same scary (now getting just plain stupid and absurd): "I'm Akutsu! Akutsu Jin!" with something tacked up on the end if he was in a good mood. Really, if Muromachi had a glass marble every time he said that, (counting the times when Muromachi wasn't even there to hear it) he could retire rich and concentrate on his marble empire. Heck, he could have a glass marble _castle_! No, he could even have his own glass marble _island with the castle_. (He'd name it _the_ Muromachi Touji Glass Marble Island… 2000!)

"Well, I'm Sengoku!" Sengoku shot back. "Sengoku Kiyosumi! Got _that_ memorized?"

Muromachi gaped at them with 'this is morbidly wrong' flashing on repeat in his mind. Perhaps the reason for that was because the situation really was wrong. His ears must be having fun lying to him today, for he did _not_ just hear Sengoku imitating Akutsu's catch phrase. He only hoped now that Sengoku didn't become Akutsu's punch bag for today.

"Do you know who you're talking to, punk?" Akutsu said threateningly as he gave Sengoku his best sideways glare and a growl. Sengoku finally seemed to be reverted back to his right state of mind and chuckled nervously under Akutsu's scary aura. He probably decided that this really wasn't the time to be a wise guy. Even though he and Akutsu were like best buddies, he knew that the other wouldn't hesitate in giving him a black eye if he was provoked. Right now, he looked pretty provoked.

"Um," Sengoku said. "Akutsu? Akutsu Jin?" Sengoku couldn't believe it. His tongue had betrayed him!

"Why you little…" Akutsu's 'Scary Meter' just blew over the top and his eyes were flaring with flames of anger. Sengoku said his prayers to the mighty Dan god and hoped the boy would appear and get him out of this pickle. Then he remembered he was no longer lucky. …Damn!

* * *

"Hey, you got what you deserved."

"I did not deserve this!"

Minami was in a laughing fit over his vice captain whose choice of accessory that day was a large bruise on the side of his face. Sengoku thanked whatever left of his luck he had to spare him from a black eye, but it seemed it didn't work as well as he would've liked it, but he wasn't about to start complaining. The rest of the day for him went in the form of a whirlwind of disasters. He had managed to salvage his scrunched homework from his bag only to get a fabulous 'F' on it, and somehow his unmatched guessing skills were at a flop when he answered that the square root of –9 was purple instead of the obvious 3i like it should've been, and then lost in straight sets to Nitobe due to the fact that his shoelace kept coming untied. All in all, it was living hell for Sengoku because the mischievous angel wasn't really use to anyplace below the purgatory.

"Well, it probably wasn't your charm's fault because if it was good luck, then you wouldn't have lost it," Minami said. It was meant to comfort the frantic Sengoku, but his attempt was in vain.

"How… how could you even _say_ such a thing?" Sengoku sniffed, suppressing a dramatic sob.

"Uh, no! No, that's not what I meant!" Minami said hastily, but the damage was already done. "I mean, uh… what do I mean?"

"You'll help me look for it, right?" Sengoku pleaded. Minami tensed. Something in the back of his mind told him that he really shouldn't be going on with this charade of Sengoku's. Last time he 'helped' Sengoku with something, he was scared for life, literally. Minami's thigh was just no match for Sengoku's sewing pins. Now, why Sengoku was taking home economics and making a yutaka was another question…

"Uh…"

"Thank you!" Sengoku gushed, brimming with emotion. "I always knew I could count on you, captain!"

Minami really had no idea what he had just gotten himself into. Whatever it was though, an unlucky Sengoku and him a sitting duck couldn't be a good combination.

* * *

First stop for the unlikely duo was at the convenience store where Sengoku had picked up a muffin for yesterday's after school snack. Minami reasoned that retracing his steps would be more practical than throwing themselves into the nearest lake and search through the junk and gunk until they found Lucky-chan. Not only was that completely absurd and a good waste of their Bishounen status, (yes, they have to classify) Minami never liked looking for a needle in a haystack, or more accurately, looking for Sengoku's miniature charm in the gross deposits of human waste. People really ought to take better care of their environment and realize that chucking an empty soda bottle with a sticky message inside of it into a lake will _not_ eventually land on the coast of South America.

So convenience store it was.

The clerk of the store, whom we shall intelligently refer to as Clerk, greeted the two with a cheerful smile. Sengoku, who normally would've taken the time to return the courteous act, had all but a shadow of his former smile. Minami did the smiling for him.

"Ah, Sengoku!" he said happily. "And uh, Sengoku's friend!" Minami could've sworn his smile slipped for a second.

"Say, Clerk," Sengoku asked, "Did I loose anything here yesterday by any chance?"

"You know, I'm not quite sure," Clerk answered truthfully. "What's this you lost?"

At the mention of 'lost', Sengoku began looking very pale with trembling fingers and a glint of melancholy in his eyes. Minami decided that he should be the one to do the talking from now on in fear that Sengoku might lapse into a mental breakdown at any given second. After all, to Sengoku, this must be a very traumatic incident indeed.

"His lucky charm," Minami said. "One that resembles a four-leafed clover key chain."

A thoughtful look overcame Clerk as he thought long and hard about yesterday, trying to remember if he saw any trace of his favorite customer's key to eternal happiness. After a painfully tense seven and a half seconds, Clerk finally lit up with a look of triumph on his face as he announced his thoughts to the two boys:

"Well, actually, there was this one gentleman who seemed to have picked up something like that on the ground yesterday."

"_Who was he_?" Sengoku hissed.

"I didn't get his name," Clerk mused, "but he was kind of short, had a cap on, and was a bit rude when I accidentally gave him the wrong change."

"Well, that narrows it down a bit," Minami sighed miserably, trying to calculate how many guys in Tokyo were short, capable of wearing a hat, and rude. The answer was… too many to speak of.

"Anything else at all?" Sengoku begged.

"He did have a tennis bag like yours I think," Clerk offered. The phone rang in the back of the store. "Sorry boys, I've got to take this call. Hope you find your charm."

"Hmm… short, wears cap, rude, plays tennis," Sengoku said as he counted them off of his fingers. "That could only mean…"

"Echizen!"

* * *

In all honesty, it was a rather rash thing for the two boys to jump to conclusions. For all they know, no such boy passed by Clerk's store, no such boy bought an item, no such boy demanded back his rightful twenty-five yen, and no such boy even existed. The two decided to take the benefit of the doubt and live out their theory in hopes of finally grasping the truth, Sengoku's charm, and the well overdue dinner both stomachs were complaining about.

"What do you want?" While Ryoma was well aware that in the past week that his house seemed to be the gathering of random people from nowhere and everywhere, he still couldn't help but feel that he is obligated to his privacy, which shall not be trespassed over without his consent. Too bad for him no one really gave a care in his direction on this issue. Ryoma already knew this quite well after Sengoku and his other group of friends invaded him prior, and had Fuji, Tezuka, and Eiji raid his room and forced him to Fuji's house for DDR. Ryoma was just _dying_ to know who it was this time.

"You!" Sengoku began accusingly. (Minami was shocked to realize that it was very much in the same interrogating manner as Akutsu. He always knew that the boy was a bad influence.) There was the check for short and wearing a cap. "Give me back my Lucky-chan!"

"…Go away." Ryoma was so tired with dealing with losers. Another check for being rude, and by default Sengoku knew that Ryoma was a tennis freak. There was no doubt in the orange-haired boy's mind that Ryoma was indeed the culprit of the heinous crime. (Yes, Sengoku classified it as a crime.)

"Give it," Sengoku demanded once again as he extended a hand, palm up, to Ryoma, bidding him to return his charm.

"I don't have whatever it is you're looking for," Ryoma sighed.

"Well, where's the proof, huh?" Sengoku went on in a very Akutsu-ish manner. "Give me an alibi! Where were you yesterday at seventeen fifty-seven?"

"Sleeping," Ryoma said without missing a beat, and slammed the door in Sengoku and Minami's faces. (Ryoma quite enjoyed his snoozes under the tree.)

Sengoku, needless to say, was most distraught.

* * *

Somewhere across town in a quiet little neighborhood filled with good people and one quaint little poodle, a short, cap-wearing, tennis racket wielding, and sometimes rude boy just finished creaming his teammates at some ultra-violent video game that melted your brain with its senseless and bloodless violence. That boy's name was Shishido Ryou. His victims were the appalled Ohtori, the determined-not-to-loose-again Hiyoshi, and one plain unhappy Mukahi.

"I rule you, losers," Shishido said as he rubbed his victory in their faces. More accurately speaking, Gakuto's and Hiyoshi's faces because Ohtori was always spared from his sarcasm and mean remarks.

"How is he doing it?" Hiyoshi said to Gakuto. "It's your game you've been dominating us at ever since… forever!"

"How am I suppose to know how he turned from a video game dork to the king of button mashing?" Gakuto snapped back.

How indeed was a very grand question, but seeing as we are all smart people, one must be aware that it wasn't all Shishido's doing that was bringing him this insane amount of good luck.

* * *

I.G.D.P.O.L.F. XIII

Chronicle XI

* * *

It was a lovely day at Devious Manor, or as lovely as the local weather around Devious Manor could get. The skies were leaking gallons of water by the second, the wind was blowing at rates exceeding Inui's key frequencies when given a keyboard, and thunder crackled with lightning illuminating the gray heavens, making it the finishing touches to the picture. Yes, could this perfect weather get any better?

Add a good dosage of magical snow and you've got yourself the next Mona Lisa.

While art is to be appreciated whether some of us see secret meanings that really aren't there, or fail to see the obvious that is there, some of us just really don't appreciate the soul and passion put into art. There's nothing wrong with preferences. In fact, a snarky and feeling rather under the weather (literally) teen was having such negative thoughts about today's weather masterpiece.

_Damn that Fuji_!

Ryoma, needless to say, wasn't quite feeling himself (again, literally). His fingers were numb with cold, his brain was complaining about anything to everything, and his tongue, alas, was still glued to the ground in a most embarrassing manner, and it didn't look like as if anyone was about to rescue him. He was absolutely powerless in a situation like this.

Speaking of power, now, perhaps, is a good time to introduce Ryoma's grand power as 'copycat'. It could be the most useful thing in the world in certain situations, or it could be completely useless as it was now. Ryoma was able to copy and memorize magic from previous spar matches, (now mastering said magic was a different matter) and after a few minutes of racking his brain for something, _anything_ that could get him out of this uncomfortable position, he was rewarded with a void nothing. Ryoma dearly wished now that he had taken the time to get the scope on Niou and his wild fire rampage the other night instead of thinking about how icky it was to hold Kiraku's hand and have his petty healing atoms crawl up his arm. (He was glad he didn't get first-degree burns, though.)

Just when Ryoma thought he would be stuck there until next week's meeting when someone finally notices that he's nowhere to be seen and finally rescue his corpse chilly environment, he heard a soft creaking followed by a blast of stinging cold from what appeared to be the doorway. A pair of their standard black boots soon came into his limited view.

"Curious fool," came an icy voice. Ryoma was about to protest when he remembered his inability to retort.

After what seemed like a long time, Ryoma finally got fed up with wondering whether or not this enigmatic man (he sounded like a man) was going to help him, and the absurd shine that was emitting from his spotless boots. Because he couldn't speak coherently, Ryoma resorted to other means to get his attention: throw a tantrum.

It wasn't a very well planned tantrum.

The squirming and screeching and yelling might've caught his attention, but since Ryoma decided to sick Fuji's awesome air powers into play, it resulted in a very unneeded blizzard effect that efficiently drowned out his screams for help and salvation. That and he just managed to make himself look like an idiot to Oshitari's second. There goes his longed for promotion. Ryoma was having a blast.

Mr. Shiny-Boots seems to have gotten his point and Ryoma heard a releasing crackle from underneath, finally releasing his tongue. Relief washed over his mind as he willed his arms to push himself upright, and what's left of his responding tongue-nerves to properly withdraw said muscle back into the warm caverns of his mouth. Quickly dusting snow from his sleeves and trying in vain to make himself look presentable, Ryoma met the mysterious II with an unwavering stare. No, retake, Ryoma met the mysterious II's torso with an unwavering stare. It seems that the younger boy was still having height issues to account for.

"Are you just going to stare?"

"Yes," Ryoma answered, not really being able to come up with anything better. Normally, he wouldn't be caught dead staring at another person, much less admit it without shame, but II had this fabulous diamond on the lower of his dual-zipper coat, and Ryoma had to admit that he was infatuated with the rock. Mmm… diamond zipper… Ryoma wished he had a diamond zipper…

Wait a tick! They didn't call them 'uniforms' for nothing! He was entitled to his diamond!

"Stop staring you simple plebian," II sneered. "Or are you that easily swayed by pretty shiny things?"

"A ditcher like you has no right to insult me," Ryoma snapped back, finding a bit of positive in all the dissing rap songs Niou had blasted before. They really sharpened his insult reflexes, though by his standing in the Organization, Ryoma knew he really shouldn't be dissing a person of higher rank than he. Then again, seeing how this guy left him to a frozen hell for nearly fifteen minutes without responding, Ryoma felt entitled to throw a few nasty things his way. Besides, he was right. II never attended meetings.

"Really now?" the other answered with a chuckle. Ryoma finally tore his eyes away from II's bling to make notice of his face. He was surprised to see that II was… handsome? No, didn't sound right. Beautiful? No, II was a guy. Gorgeous? Definitely not. Obnoxiously pretty? Yes, that seemed like the right phrase. It was a pity how such an angelic person could have such a wretched personality, but then again, the archangel Fuji was a perfect example of that irony.

"Echizen Ryoma, was it?" II asked as a smirk emerged on his godly features. ('Angelic' was reserved for Fuji and Fuji only.) "What business do you have here?"

Ryoma had opened his mouth to answer, but instead found his mind blank as a fresh piece of copy paper and unable to produce a valid reply. Sure, there was a valid reply— Fuji, bargain, tongue… but trying to preserve whatever little dignity he had left in the face of II, Ryoma opted for the convenient silence.

"It is nice to see someone other than Oshitari for a change though," II sighed, "I'd love to have a chat about something other than mind racking schemes." He approached his opened door and beckoned Ryoma in.

Ryoma should've known better and suspect the sudden invitations, but _damn_. Those diamond walls were just _begging_ him to stare.

XXX

"Niou, are you sleeping?"

"Maybe."

Saeki and Niou were enjoying their wonderful stormy night together by propping themselves up like lightning poles imploring the raging thunder to strike them dead. Such a night should've been ideal for the thunder-loving Sengoku, but as his luck would have it, Saeki and Niou were the ones who were doing this annoying task. Honestly though, who in their right mind would want to invade this place in this weather?

"Saeki," Niou piqued up suddenly with a playful smirk, "Are _you_ sleeping?"

It seemed that bounty hunters took this kind of weather as the ultimate cover-up for plan: invasion. It seemed they thought that nobody in their right mind would be guarding a place in this weather as well. Despite the rain, Niou was able to easily torch the group's bottoms before they came within a twenty-five feet radius of the two. Screams of panic and agony could be heard well above the din of the rolling thunder. Niou, dare we say, was deliriously amused, mischief displayed on his childish physique.

"Maybe," Saeki replied as he readjusted his gaze at the dark horizon.

* * *

Elsewhere in Devious Manor, Ryoma was beginning to wonder if II had an internal thermometer because his floor was _freezing_. It was a thing to be expected, though, seeing how his hallway alone was below the zero degrees Celsius. The interior was a lot worse. It was closer to zero Kelvin as Ryoma inferred, though Ryoma was too busy shivering to care much for this kind of stuff.

"Earl Grey?" II offered as he handed a cup to Ryoma.

"Th-th-th-th-th…" Unable to produce a proper 'thank-you' due to the insane amount of shivering he was doing, Ryoma could only extend two shaking hands to accept what he thought would be some warmth amidst II's icy lair. He was sourly disappointed when he involuntarily spat out a mouthful of cold tea.

"So, do tell about the ongoings in the Organization," II prompted as he disregarded the tea and sipped his with pleasure. He also waved Ryoma to the nearest diamond couch, which by now Ryoma had figured out that it was really just nicely cut ice figures and not really diamond. Now not only were his hands and feet and tongue cold, his butt was forced to endure possible side effects of ice-couch bite, something ten times worse than your average frostbite.

"C-c-c-c-c… _cold_!" Ryoma congratulated himself on finally being able to utter a syllable, but was quickly reduced to II's complete ignorance towards his hinting.

"I heard that there was some disturbance on the grounds the other night."

_Can't you see you're about to murder me?_ Ryoma thought bitterly as he now considered trying to make a run for it, if his legs were even in cooperation with his mind. He tried to move his left foot. No reaction. Looks like he was trapped here with the ice monster. Oh, joy.

"Of course, only you pawns would be expected to slave in this weather protecting the perimeter."

_How the hell do you survive in this Antarctica?_

"Dreadful pity though. I usually looked forward to my nightly plotting at Sengoku's place, but it seems he has to sleep in early for tomorrow's rotation."

_And have you ever heard of 'furniture' that's _not _a lump of frozen water?_

"How is he of late? He hasn't blabbered on about our scheme, has he?"

_I bet you eat raw meat for dinner._

"Speaking of which, would you like to join us? Taking over the Organization that is."

_And what the hell are you talking— taking over the Organization?What?_

"I'll get Niou to defrost you."

That was one offer Ryoma couldn't turn up.


	9. Incident 9

Incident Nine

In which a plot is founded,

Dishes are broken,

And Fuji frozen into a Popsicle

Sunday morning came and past, lapsing into a breezy afternoon filled with gusts of joy, hope, and ultimately despair for one unlucky soul. As schedule, the five deviants reassembled in the Café to discuss their issues of late, and now what possible misfortunes might've befallen them in the past week. It was to say without fail that there were many things to be discussed within the Project, but such things would have to be put on hold due to the strange happening that three of the members had yet to show up.

"Niou's running late," Fuji noted with disdain, peeking sadly at the green analog clock that hung a bit lopsided on the sidewall. Its hands indicated that the aforementioned person was already nearly fifteen minutes behind schedule.

"So are Oshitari and Sengoku," Saeki supplied ad he sipped absent-mindedly at his water. A sigh of boredom could be heard from both.

"You think they forgot?" Fuji said as he impatiently tapped a slim finger against the wooden table surface, his brows scrunched in a most unhappy manner. He had so many grand ideas as to what the five of them could do, though they mainly all revolved around havoc and chaos galore.

"They probably got held up," Saeki said, staring out the spacious window. He too had so many grand ideas as to what the five of them could do, and unlike Fuji, it revolved around happiness, chivalry, and all things to do with charity. Actually, maybe not to that extreme, but it didn't involve any dark and shady underground business.

"But by _what_?" Fuji groaned as he rested his head on his hand, a sea of misery reflecting on his eyes. As if on cue, the three barged through the front door, all disgruntled and looking rather out of breath and in a panic, except for Oshitari who looked completely gung-ho. Before any of them could speak, An took the initiative and glided over to the three late spectacles.

"Sengoku-san and you guys, are you alright?" she asked as he handed Sengoku a towel for his muddy shirt. A scrunched up napkin was produced from her pocket stash for Niou.

"So we go from being ignored to 'those people' to 'you people' to 'you guys'," Oshitari laughed as Niou furiously scrubbed at his shirt with the tiny napkin. The fibers couldn't hold up against Niou's demands and almost immediately tore on contact.

"I'm so flattered," Niou grumbled as he chucked the useless wad of napkin into the nearest trashcan. Turning to Sengoku, who's managed to drop his towel thrice in the last ten-second interval and trip on it twice, he gave an exasperated, "You really are unlucky now, aren't you?"

At the mention of 'unlucky' and a quick flash of past events, Sengoku went from nearly tripping to toppling over on the floor, sprawled out like a maniac and mind in utter chaotic turmoil. Fuji and Saeki made a dash over to where the orange-haired teen laid in shambles while Niou, learning from previous examples, slowly inched away, no wanting to attract more gifts from the unpleasant. Oshitari was still just plain dandy.

"Sengoku, what happened?" Fuji said sternly as he tried his best to remove the pathetic Sengoku heap from the floor. Not only was it an eye-catching thing for arriving customers, but Fuji would really like to get their meeting going like it should've been nearly seventeen minutes ago.

"Lucky-chan was stolen," Sengoku mumbled. Fuji guided him to their table.

"What?" Fuji asked. Surely this 'Lucky-chan' couldn't be a girl. It must be tennis related.

"It's his charm," Niou explained seeing how Sengoku was more into being a lawn sprinkler than a talker. "He lost it and now he'd unlucky."

"And it seems anyone near him inherits that dosage of bad luck," Oshitari chuckled, earning him cynical stares from around.

"You seem fine," Saeki pointed out. "Were you the one who took it?"

"How could I?" Oshitari said with another insouciant laugh, which pitted his statement against him, proving him guiltier. "A short, cap-wearing, tennis racket wielding, and sometimes rude boy took it."

"You know who it is?" Sengoku exclaimed as his eyes turned from watery to saucers of illumination.

"Echizen?" Fuji guessed.

"Shishido," Oshitari answered before reaching into his pocket and depositing a little worn, but nonetheless intact Lucky-chan into Sengoku's trembling hands. "There was just something odd when he won five matches off of Atobe. It took forever to find the right time to take it from his pocket."

Sengoku was stared at his prized possession and best friend for the days to come. He couldn't believe this was true! He was finally reunited with his beloved Lucky-chan! Now all things wrong will be right and all things left will be right to and all things bad will turn right as well! Words simply cannot explain the ecstatic mode Sengoku was in. Turning to Oshitari, he managed to choke out a heartfelt:

"I love you!!" Which was answered by a calm:

"I have enough fans as it is, thank you."

* * *

Once all things were in order again, the group ordered up a storm of delectable confections from 'your friendly waitress An' before settling into the decisive matter of things. (Oshitari had opted to pay.) They had all their members assembled and ready, as well as a name in hand, so now it was down to the brain racking matter of deciding what to do with their brilliant minds.

"Should we go back to the pen and paper?" Oshitari suggested. He already had a general idea of what he wanted to do, though, and it included a lot of confusion, playing the puppet master, and this wonderful cup of green tea overloaded with artificial sweeteners. Chemicals… yum.

"Always prepared!" Sengoku chirped as he withdrew five sheets of muddy, soggy, and crimpled pieces of paper from his tennis bag. Presenting them to the group with a wide grin, Sengoku disregarded the fact that it was probably very crinkly and unsanitary to have them within a two-foot radius.

"What? Were you looking for that thing in the sewer?" Niou remarked as he glanced uncertainly at the big brown spot on one piece and the oddly shaped green smudge on the other.

"No, I was looking for her in the lake last night," Sengoku retorted with a frown. He didn't appreciate Niou calling his precious Lucky-chan a 'thing'. No, it _clearly_ had the ability to be hurt by his demeaning comments and the melancholy to match.

"The one near that old hospital that's now closed?" Oshitari questioned in alarm.

"That lake that's said to be haunted by the spirit of a headless woman who committed suicide there after her lover died in a tragic accident involving a hedgehog?" Fuji followed up without missing a beat. "And that whoever dares disturb her sanctuary at night more than once is rumored to have died and early death with their future generation forever under her curse?"

"I just thought the pH level there was higher than normal," Oshitari commented, not really buying Fuji's ghost stories. The others didn't seem very into it either.

"But it's also haunted," Fuji insisted knowingly.

"Anyways…" Saeki picked up.

* * *

Backtracking to Oshitari's most wonderful week, it's wise to say now that the boy had his own ups and downs. Gakuto still hasn't stopped pestering him over his spiriting away at random intervals the past couple of weeks, Atobe was still moody as ever and could be seen slowly lapsing into the adult addiction of coffee, and then there was Shishido. Short, spunky, and cranky Shishido had suddenly turned over a new leaf, or more accurately, clover.

"Are you on steroids?" Atobe panted as he leaned over, hands on his knees and he tried desperately to regain his breath. His breathing came in sputters, perspiration dotted his complexion, and his eyes shone with fury at the smirking boy on the other side of the court, coolly balancing his racket on his index finger. Usually the situation would be reversed, though Atobe preferred no tacky trickeries with the racket.

"Come on, Atobe," Shishido taunted. "You know those are illegal. I'd say it's just a stroke of luck." To prove his point, Shishido swung a pretty little four-leafed clover in front of the other in a taunting manner.

A short string of profanities were muttered before the taller boy straightened his back and dropped his racket on the court with a clatter. A murmur of surprised echoed across the club as members from freshmen to seniors turned from their tasks to look upon their flustered captain. Even Sasaki looked up from grading his music tests to observe the scene at hand.

"Search him," Atobe demanded to the general audience. "This isn't possible. You are unable to surpass me!"

"Hey!" Shishido yelled. "Don't be selfish! Just because you-"

Oshitari briskly made his way onto the court and promptly lugged the boy off court before he could object any further and risk losing a limb. While he wasn't too upset with the coffee and hose episode, (before honor is humility) he knew that Shishido, on the other hand, would be furious if anything that shouldn't be on him got on him (too much humility is pride). Over the years, Oshitari had observed Shishido to be a sort of neat freak who had everything organized to a point of him not knowing where something is to be infallible.

"What are you doing?" Shishido screamed as he tried to resist.

"Practice's ended," Oshitari pointed out, gesturing towards the clock and Sasaki, who had packed up and spilt, "And I-"

"-am not going to hang around with you," Shishido finished for him. He then jerked his arm away from Oshitari with a scowl. "Choutarou and I-"

"-want to talk about things that-"

"-are suppose to-"

"-have been affecting your-"

"-help with the video-"

"-game."

"-club."

A moment of silence followed the odd jumble of words. Oshitari broke out laughing soon after, but Shishido, on the other hand, was not as amused as the other. With his arms crossed and scowl deepening, Shishido assumed an annoyed pose as he glared upon the bluette with animosity. Oshitari pressed out a sigh.

"Look," Oshitari reasoned, closing in on Shishido. "No matter how bitter the fact is, both of us know that at this point in time, it's not possible for you to defeat Atobe unless it's by… special circumstances."

"And you are?" Shishido scoffed. "And why are you touching my but? Are you trying to rob me?"

Oshitari simply laughed as they began walking towards the clubhouse, pocketing his trophy and glad that Shishido was dense. Shishido took the nonverbal answer as an offense and hastily turned to leave, but the prodigy was quick to snatch his wrist and force the shorter boy inside against his consent.

"Ah! Yuushi!"

Just as Oshitari had grabbed Shishido's wrist, Gakuto— who had abandoned his half-buttoned shirt for more trifling matters— has ensnared his in a vice grip before dragging the pair that had just entered back outside. Oshitari, entranced and excited by all the fun and amusement factors to satisfy him, simply went with the flow and voicing no objections. Shishido, again on the other side of the spectrum, was not so happy about where he was.

"Let me go!" Shishido prompted.

"I have been wondering-" Gakuto said.

"Are you crazy or-"

"-really extensively-"

"-paranoid because-"

"-whether or not you-"

"-believe me-"

"-or this Sachiko girl-"

"-do not."

"-like each other."

A short pause filled the odd gap that had previously been splattered over by Gakuto and Shishido's random babble. After replaying the overlapping conversation in his mind a couple of times for enhanced clarity, Oshitari frowned. Usually he would've laughed at their idiotic words and mock them on the subject of their maturity, but not today. Something which shouldn't have been said was said today.

"Sachiko?" Oshitari asked with confusion written all over his face. "Who's Sachiko?"

Had Oshitari not been sharp-eyed he was, he would've missed the slight tinge of pink on his friend's cheeks. Coupled with a frown, Oshitari would've almost dubbed it as 'cute' had he not known that Gakuto was in stage one of extreme anger rampage. Being around Gakuto nearly everyday had taught him that a fourteen-year-old throwing a temper tantrum included with wailing and kicking and launching himself at the nearest solid object wasn't the most pleasurable of experiences, especially since last time he got knocked into a bookshelf and nearly escaped a concussion.

"Sachiko's your girlfriend, isn't she?" Gakuto prompted as he crossed his folded his arms across his chest and gave Oshitari a reproachful look. There was stage number two. "She's the reason you're never around anymore.)

"I don't have a girlfriend," Oshitari stated firmly. "I don't even know any girls named Sachiko."

"Assume it's a pseudonym then," Gakuto went on. "There can't be any other rational justification. It's elementary." Stage number three: employing fancy words used from class. Oshitari was walking on thin ice.

"If I could tell you the reason, I would," Oshitari said, masking on his best empathetic face. A flicker of belief flashed on Gakuto's face, but was quickly replaced by the same glower. Oshitari silently cursed. He knew he shouldn't have used this tactic so often.

"And why can't you?" Gakuto growled. Growling was stage number four.

_Why can't I?_ Oshitari asked himself, and then the answer dawned on him: because he liked to have his little secrets. It was like defying authority in some ways, and anything to slip by the rules provided a burst of adrenaline and satisfaction to the crafty devil. Oshitari loved that sweet taste of eluding his best friend. It was hysterical.

"Do you really want to know?" Oshitari asked gravely, eyes darkening and complexion growing paler. "I really want to trust you, you know? So I think you should know. I'm tired of lying too."

"Yes! Tell me!" Gakuto screamed desperately as he mauled at Oshitari's shirt, eyes shining with curiosity and thrilled about the breakthrough. He waited intently for Oshitari to finally spill the beans. He had hypothesized that it might've dealt with a girl, but what came out of Oshitari's mouth next was something that would render his mind completely void. Never in his thirteen years of existence would he thought he'd hear these words so soon:

"Gakuto, I'm going to be a father."

And that's why Oshitari is the world renowned Crafty Schemer. At least he finally got Gakuto off of his trail with that lie, though he couldn't comprehend the massive amounts of complications that came with his friend's big mouth and the rumor-loving Hyoutei.

"Oh, and by the way," the sarcastic Shishido added, having been omitted from the previous page and a half. "Let _go_ of me!"

* * *

"The S.N.O.F.S. United Peace Unity Corp? Are you-"

"Serious? Yes."

It's a thing to note that with a quirky name like S.N.O.F.S., one wouldn't think of them as the type to be helping those less fortunate. The way the conflicting syllables made a clash of teeth and tongue certainly wouldn't seem like something people in peril would want to scream out, and the United Peace Unity Corp part seemed like bad makeup on an ugly model, not to mention it was an oxymoron in itself. Yet this was what Saeki was proposing they do: start a charity fund. Had this been another very different group of five boys, it might've been viewed as something spectacular and grand, but with a group of tricksters and conspirators and Malice Mizers, it was seen as an absurdly funny proposal.

"And let us just pretend we're going to do it," Niou brought up. "What are we suppose to do with no funds and only a background in tennis?"

"We could cook for the homeless," Saeki suggested.

"You want _him_ to cook for the homeless?" Niou said skeptically, indicating towards Fuji. The horrors of Inui Juice and the brunette's strange tolerance and liking to them had easily reached the ears of Rikkai via Yanagi.

"Would you like me to cook something for _you_?" Fuji shot back with vengeance.

"Or we could knit sweaters," Saeki went on.

"I don't know how to knit," Sengoku admitted. Saeki sighed right then and gave up on the idea of them being a good bunch. So law tripping it was, then.

"I have a better idea," Sengoku said. All eyes turned to him. "Let's open a hair salon!"

"And have us sued when Niou _accidentally_ cuts off the ear of and annoying customer? I don't think so," Oshitari quickly countered. He didn't want to touch other people's dandruff covered heads, no thank you.

"I want to start a heavy metal band," Niou interjected. "With pyrotechnics and screaming fans."

"Followed by law suits against unintentional murder by smog," Fuji said. "A magazine would be better. We could call it 'FQ' for 'Fuji Quarterly', and we could then start producing our own fashion line, and-"

"And I say we just stick to teaching little kids tennis," Oshitari proposed. Everyone was immediately hushed by Oshitari's suggestion. They were all waiting for the catch line. "So they could become our brainwashed minions when we take over the world."

"And _I_ say somebody is going to help with the dishes."

The attention then shifted to the spunky waitress that was attending to them. Tachibana An stood in front of their table, arms akimbo and a light smile on her face. Once she had their eyes, she casually reached into her apron and slapped down a thin, blue card in front of Oshitari.

"My credit card didn't register?" Oshitari asked, baffled. An shook her head.

"Apparently not, so either you start washing dishes, pretty boy, or start learning how to wash dishes."

* * *

"WHAT? YOU? PREGNANT?!"

"I said _father_, Gakuto— dad, male, not pregnant."

"YOU'RE GOING TO BE A FATHER?"

"Yeah, sure."

"YOU?"

"Yes, me."

"…WHAT?!"

"You know, forget I said that…"

"…_Damn_ Sachiko!"

"I already said I don't know any Sachiko!"

* * *

"What's happening to my fingers?"

The boys were condemned to kitchen work, specifically dish duty. While most like Saeki and Sengoku were use to these kinds of housework, Oshitari, who usually left this portion of housework to the dishwasher, wasn't quite use to these kinds of menial tasks. After only twenty minutes of running lukewarm water over his manicured fingers, Oshitari had managed to drop two dishes, deluge the floor in a thin layer of soapy water, and squirt dish detergent into Niou's hair.

"Pruning," Fuji sighed in a mocking and airy way. Oshitari's face scrunched into a disgusted grimace. Fuji chortled lightly in response.

"Don't they have a dishwasher?" Oshitari tried despondently.

"Unless you're willing to make a generous donation?" An said sarcastically from the sink across from him.

"I'll see to it, An-chan," Oshitari said with as much charm as he could muster, and coating her name with a thick layer of sweet honey. He'd do anything to get his hands un-pruned.

"Yeah, sure," An answered off-handedly, immune to the boy's charms. Oshitari wasn't discouraged, though, and as a desperate and resilient person, he wracked the contours of his mind to think of any possible way to weasel out of this situation.

"Say, An-chan," Oshitari said suavely. "Let's forget this nonsense and go on a date." To further solidify his statement, he quickly turned off the tap and leaned causally against the wet corner of the countertop, his head twisted back to meet An's eyes. An seemed unfazed.

"Turn on the water and start washing the dish-"

Many things happened simultaneously then.

As Niou accidentally slipped on the slippery floor, he toppled onto Saeki's back. As Saeki got a good mouthful of soap water and soggy confections, the stack of dishes Niou was previously carrying streaked across the room. As Fuji made a desperate snatch for a stray dish, he leaned too far in attempt and crashed straight into Sengoku's back. As Sengoku went flailing, he made a quick snatch at whatever was in front of him. As Sengoku snagged the hem of Niou's shirt, it caught him off balance, and the four of them slid like an ice hockey puck right into the corner of the room. As they did that, the floor was awarded with a shower of plates.

"An? Did I hear dishes break?"

"You five, _out_."

* * *

"I hope An-chan is okay."

Fuji was the first to speak of the incident after the five of them had literally been kicked out the back door by an obviously unhappy Tachibana An. Though happy to be rid of the foul dishes, they were ultimately riddled with guilt and embarrassment over what had happened.

"She'll be fine," Oshitari said nonchalantly. "Though whether we're welcome back to that place or not is a different matter."

"After that mess, I kind of doubt it," Niou sighed. He really did have an attachment to those sponge cakes. It wasn't so much that he liked eating them, but poking them and watching it puff right back never ceased to amuse him. He was one easily entertained.

"And we haven't even figured out what we're going to do," Sengoku added, absentmindedly kicking an empty can on the street and watched it roll slowly off the curb into the street, where it was promptly crushed by an oncoming car.

"Well, what can we do that we all like?" Saeki said. He then quickly added as the rest of the group simultaneously began forming the first syllable to that infamous word. "Besides tennis, that is."

"I still say tennis," Oshitari said, stubborn.

"I want a hair salon," Sengoku stated.

"I want my band."

"I want Fuji Quarterly."

"And I still want my Peace Unity Corp, so it doesn't look like we're getting anywhere," Saeki sighed. A thoughtful silence descended upon the boys. Each was thinking how they could resolve this issue while ultimately persuading the others that his idea was the best of the lot, but Fuji was the one who eventually came up with the answer:

"Well, since we all want something different, why don't we just sell ourselves?"

"You want us to be prostitutes?" Niou said with a surprised look.

"No, I mean open a store and sell our services and talents," Fuji quickly explained.

"So you want us to run a pimp house?" Niou pushed.

"No, not that," Fuji said in disgust though he knew Niou was only joking. "Something more along the lines of a… what was it again?"

"Host club?" Saeki offered.

"Exactly!"

"So you want to open a host club where we could cut hair, play music, teach tennis, donate a fifth of our profits to charity and self publish a magazine… for girls?" Oshitari asked. Never before had he heard such a ridiculous idea since that Sachiko incident. He had to admit it was an amusing venture, though.

"Unless junior high guy tennis players are gay," Fuji said with a scrunched face. "Which I doubt."

"Of course they aren't," Niou scoffed. "Who in their right junior high tennis club mind would be gay?"

Murmurs of agreement ensued.

A few days later with many connections and money Oshitari looted off of Atobe, the S.N.O.F.S. project had landed themselves a cozy little headquarters on the corner of a lively street in Tokyo. And this is where, after nine chapters and a lot of mindless babble and useless interjections, something plot productive is finally found.

"Wait, are we even able to legally own this place?"

"No one needs to know, Fuji. Besides, I got Atobe to take care of that."

"He seems awfully gracious about if you ask me."

"Which no one did, Niou."

"Oshitari probably just bribed him with something."

"I bet he did."

"No one needs to know about that either, Saeki, Sengoku."

"… Let's just go play tennis."

* * *

I.G.D.P.O.L.F. XII

Chronicle IX

* * *

Ryoma felt stupid. In all the time he had spent with this brigade of idiots, it had never occurred to him that _he_ could be the one barking the orders if he overthrew the contract that Oshitari had all of them bound by. Never had he thought to look for loopholes in the well-detailed text that read:

I sincerely vow that in return for temporary revival of my body that I shall forevermore, until the effects of life become null, faithfully serve my lord, his Great Devious Presence Oshitari Yuushi, in his quest to conquer the world and then some. (Naturally, the contract was longer, but the following details mainly pertained to Oshitari's self-praise.)

Now that Ryoma took the time to examine it, some details really did stand out to him.

It's probably as good of as time as ever (though really this portion should belong somewhere closer to the beginning) to give a history lecture. I.G.D.P.O.L.F. XII was a band of undead souls unable to move on due to difficult circumstances all pertaining to a certain grudge they held against another or an unfulfilled goal or promise. At first they were all bodiless ghosts wandering around brooding over the fact that they couldn't even stand on the ground without sinking a few inches in or floating a couple meters overhead let alone avenge themselves. Then came along their savior: a dashing young gentleman who had somehow managed to create a doppelganger in which he placed their tortured souls. All he asked for was the simple payment of their time to help him conquer the world before he let them accomplish whatever they were turned ghost for and then ascend to heaven, or, in Niou's case, be damned to hell. Naturally, most knew it would be another eon before that happened, and all of them were getting rather impatient with Oshitari. (Though Inui was smart, Oshitari could never get him to start working on their anti-matter program. Inui was just too engrossed with creating his Inui Juices, so that ruled out world domination via threat with multi-massive explosive power.) All of them had things to accomplish and someplace _not_ earth to go, but if it weren't for the fact that Oshitari had complete control over their bodies, they would've split around the time Charles Martel fought at Tours.

"So, in other words, we change him."

The night was certainly an eventful one. After Niou had nearly torched Ryoma to ashes— his interpretation of defrosting— Atobe decided to dismiss Sengoku's earlier retirement to sleep and invited the lightning freak in on their little chat. The subject was how to escape Oshitari's clutches of evil deviousness.

"Change who?" Ryoma asked, trying as hard as he could to grasp the concept Atobe was trying to dump on him. The silver-haired beauty gave a delicate sigh as he reached for another ice-coated biscuit.

"'Our lord', of course. It says that we will 'faithfully serve my lord, the Great Devious' _bastard_ 'Oshitari Yuushi'," Niou said.

"So if he's not 'Oshitari Yuushi' anymore, then we'll be free," Sengoku said, stifling a yawn. Atobe offered him some tea, but Sengoku promptly turned down the frozen ice cube.

"And we do that how?" Ryoma asked.

The boy got his answer soon enough. At the end of his question, the door swung open to reveal a cloud of swirling icy mist and a dark lanky figure within the ostentatious and completely unnecessary dramatic entrance. Ryoma, feeling more awed by the second, could only stare as Inui, X, glided through the door clutching something tightly in his left hand and glasses slightly skewed and hair even messier than normal. Atobe, Niou, and Sengoku hailed him with a small round of slow applause.

"You need to change your hallways decorations, Atobe," Inui muttered. Then he spotted the innocent little Ryoma in the corner who stood out like a sore thumb. "What is he-"

"He knows," Atobe said simply as he floated behind the tiny boy and firmly gripped his shoulders. "And you'll join, won't you?"

Shivers shot down Ryoma's spine, and it wasn't due to the freezer-like condition. Atobe's voice was like the depth of winter with treacle allure— shiver-inducing. The youngest member was scared to find that there may just be more than one siren in the Organization, and despite the tight situation he was in, he couldn't help but picture Fuji and Atobe enjoying a glass of Ponta out in the garden. Tea just doesn't seem right. Ponta was so much better.

"I don't have a choice, do I?" Ryoma mumbled. Doubtless he'd be executed if he even dared tell Oshitari a peep.

"Smart," Atobe remarked as he relinquished Ryoma and took a seat next to Niou on his block of ice. "So, gentleman, let's commence."

* * *

Fuji was usually good about sleep. After taking a shower, changing into his nightclothes, brushing his teeth, and then curling up with his favorite picture of his kid brother and older sister, he would usually fall asleep within five to ten minutes. Today, however, was an exception. An unusual stroke of insomnia hit the brunette, and no matter how hard he tried to release all thoughts from his mind, he found that there was just something really nagging at him, like trying to nibble at a cookie just out of reach. At first, he tried to ignore it, but after reading through his scrapbook containing various doodles of him, Yuuta, and Yumiko, and violent scribbles vaguely resembling Mizuki with a stick wedged through his skull, Fuji concluded that there was definitely something important he had forgotten that he shouldn't have forgotten. The brunette poked at his mind for whatever he could possibly have overlooked that was now haunting him, but after a good half minute of pondering he decided to stop looking at random snippets and relive the day from start to finish.

First off, he had gotten out of bed, ate a simple breakfast of porridge while looking at the huge portrait of his former family that he conveniently placed in his kitchen. Then he read some Voltaire for a little bit before settling into a comfortable chat with his homemade Yuuta and Yumiko plushies. He was just about to tell them about how Niou nearly burned down the mansion yesterday when Ryoma suddenly interrupted him…

Ryoma.

Literally flying out of bed, Fuji took only a few seconds to get dressed before bolting out the door and soaring towards II's landing. Eyes flaring and adrenaline pumping in his ears, he hoped dearly that he'd find something more than just a hunk of ice in where Ryoma was presumably still glued to the ground. Fuji cursed himself over and over again for forgetting the boy. He sincerely couldn't believe that he just _left_ him there. Honestly, the heaters and fans that he had ditched Ryoma for didn't seem so comforting now. Despite his love for teasing the younger boy, Fuji really didn't mean him any harm. The two of them had too many fond memories together; there was the kitchen blowup incident, the Ryoma rag doll incident, and the Gothic Lolita incident. Fuji didn't want to loose the boy now. He had the closest resemblance to Yuuta.

When Fuji finally stumbled into the icy corridor of II's, he was dismayed to find that Ryoma was nowhere too be found. The whipping winds had covered up any evidence that anyone had been there, but the brunette was slightly relieved to find that there wasn't a lump where Ryoma had once laid. Now the only question was where the boy was. Scanning the narrow hall once again, Fuji's eyes narrowed on the only possible place the boy could have gone. Suddenly, busting down II's front door didn't seem like such a bad idea. From his previous experiences, knocking yielded nothing, and the door was encrypted with a password.

Concentrating all the positive thoughts in his mind, the prodigy summoned a ball of pressurized air between his hands and slowly made it expand until it was nearly as large as the door. Then, with a sudden thrust, the boy guided the orb in blowing away the mahogany door, right off its hinges. Thoroughly pleased with himself, Fuji didn't even take the time to consider what his next move would be, nor did he put his guard up high enough. Before he even had the chance to take a single step forward into II's exposed lair, he was immediately ensnared by a tomb of ice— slowly crawling up his body. Muttering profanities under his breath, Fuji tried to rid himself of the pesky ice, but they held strong, and soon he began panicking. The last scene that crossed his eyes before he drifted into oblivion was the sight of an absolutely magnificent soul with a fabulous diamond on his zipper.

* * *

"Was that… really necessary?" Ryoma didn't know exactly what to feel when he looked upon the precious angel frozen in ice. On one hand, he couldn't help but really want to snicker at Fuji's misfortune. On the other hand, he couldn't help but pity him a slight bit. The former eventually won him over.

"Don't worry, he'll melt," Niou assured Ryoma.

"And after that?" Ryoma pressed.

"I'm sure Fuji-kun would be more than glad to join us," Atobe said.

**

* * *

**

Happy belated birthday, Atobe, Saeki— I was too busy sniffling and battling a runny nose and listening to French songs to look at the calendar.


	10. Incident 10

Incident Ten

In which there are boys,

A lot of boys,

In a room with mistletoe

* * *

An was in a horrid mood. School had done its daily toll of making her hair a ball of frizz due to frustration, and the fact that she was asked to resign (a polite way to say that she was fired) from her job didn't help much either. There was absolutely nothing to do in the house, and after hours of moping, her older brother finally told her to get a hole of herself and promptly marched her to the nearest tennis courts, for that was his definition of therapy and fun. An wasn't in the mood for tennis, though. She wanted brown sugar and butter to play around with, and we all know quite well tennis isn't played with brown sugar and butter. 

"You could get another job," Tachibana suggested as he lobbed and easy ball over An's way. The girl seemed like she could care less as she let it bounce by without a care.

"They won't hire a junior high student like me," An pointed out gravely as she sauntered off the court, having quite enough of tennis for the day. Tachibana sadly followed, for he couldn't get enough of that sport.

"I'm sure you'll feel better about this in a couple of days," Tachibana said. An just gave a dejected sigh as she plodded in the direction of their home, leaving her older brother behind. She was too lost in misery to care. Though it was just a simple job in many eyes, An loved skipping around handing out platters of sugary confections and steaming tea. She missed her chat with the regulars, and An gulped down more sadness as she realized that the lonely widow of thirty-two wouldn't know what happened to her, or the college poet struck with a drought of writers block, and even _them_. It was funny how she was already missing the five people who had put her in such a state.

While An was busy reminiscing about what she could be doing right at this moment, Tachibana did the wise thing and placed a few calls. The first was to let their parents know that they would be expected later than what they had told them, and the second was to Kamio. When An was in a state like this, only Kamio could snap her out of it. Momoshiro might've done as well, but Tachibana didn't know his number, and even if he did, it would be strange if he placed a call to him.

"Why are you calling Kamio's cell phone at this time? Ah, I shouldn't have said that. You could be a person hired to kill Kamio, and by disclosing his name, you've now learned his location. I don't know why you would want to kill Kamio in the first place though, so you're probably just a telemarketer. I never liked telemarketers. They just talk on and on and on when normal people would give you a pause between sentences to let you hang up. You can't hang up when they're speaking because it'd be rude, and I'm not a rude person and I am also a very good listener. I wish all the people in the world would be a good listener like me, but-"

"Shinji," Tachibana said, feeling rather awkward slicing his rant in half, but if he didn't, he didn't know when Shinji would give him a break. "Where's Kamio?"

"Ah, Tachibana-san, how nice of you to call this evening. Have you looked at the weather channel? It's suppose to rain tonight I hear, though these days the forecast always seems to be wrong. I wonder why that is since Japan is suppose to be one of the world's leading technologic headquarters, but I suppose that's because-"

"Shinji."

"Oh, right. Kamio's in the shower and-"

"Never mind. I'll call back later and ask him then."

"No, you don't understand, Tachibana-san. He's probably going to take a long time because he's been singing Kumi Koda songs and he's aiming for the whole album. I wonder why he's singing Kumi Koda songs. Why can't he sing something else like Orange-Range or-"

"… I'll call back later."

"By the way, Tachibana-san, what did you call Kamio for? Oh, it must be something important seeing how you didn't call the rest of us for it. But since Kamio's only on track number four, I can probably do whatever it is you want Kamio to do because I-"

Tachibana was usually very patient, but he was at his wit's end with An and everything else going on in his life of havoc. Before he even knew what had slipped out of his mouth, he already regretted answering. Hanging up would've been the best possible option, but with everything going on, he heard himself say:

"Fine. Meet me at the café An use to work at."

A few seconds after Tachibana had hung up, realization suddenly set in like ice-cold pins. The words he had just spoken finally set in, and the Fudomine captain paled. The situation went like this: Shinji would presumably meet An who was presumably headed over to the café, and then Shinji would presumably frustrate An to the point where he wouldn't be able to do play tennis for the rest of the month. At this point, Tachibana wasn't really as concerned for An as he was for the presumably soon-to-be-maimed Shinji.

"… I pray for you, Ibu-kun." Of course, before anything else, Tachibana was more concerned for his own safety.

* * *

"Oh, there you are, An-chan. Your brother called Kamio to tell him to meet you here, but Kamio was in the shower singing Kumi Koda songs, so he sent me instead. I don't know why Kamio was singing Kumi Koda songs when he could've been singing something much nicer. At least he wasn't singing Malice Mizer songs like last time because his voice isn't really suited for Malice Mizer songs, and-"

"Shinji-kun!" An turned to the boy with an exasperated sigh. Shinji noted the frustrated expression on her face and blinked. …And then he opened his mouth again:

"You look unhappy, An-chan, which isn't good because a lot of people in this world are unhappy, which is an unhappy thing because everyone should be happy because frowning and stuff isn't good for you because my doctor told me, and he also told me I should smile more, but I do smile, see? And just because-"

"Alright, alright, I've hear enough." It was easy to be annoyed by someone like Shinji, but hard to get mad at him. An couldn't help but crack a dry smile by the boy's whimsical tactics in attempts to cheer her up while the two strolled awkwardly through the bustling streets. In truth, she wasn't any happier about her situation, but she secretly was glad it wasn't Kamio who had found her. Kamio was more of a discreet person and would probably try to drown away her miseries with a cup of tea while Shinji was as blunt as they come, and instead of dawdling over affairs, with Shinji, she may just get over this.

"… I heard you were fired from your job from Tachibana-san." An's tiny smile quickly became a grimace. Yeah, Shinji was most definitely as blunt as they come.

"And what about it?" An asked bitterly.

"You should get a new job because it'll probably help you get over the fact that you've been fired form your old job, and if you get your mind off the fact that you've been fired, then maybe you won't be so gloomy as you are now and smile, because Kamio told me countless times that you look a lot cuter when you smile, and I think so too, but I don't like you the way Kamio does, even though I think of you as a very good friend and-"

"Hey, guys. Costumers."

Before the two wayfarers had a chance to open their mouths to retort, they found themselves magically attracted into the little shop on the corner, pulled in by what appeared to be a fury of imaginary strings that dragged them through the threshold along with a bobbing head of whitish blue. An was momentarily blinded by what seemed to be a vision of heaven with a fluttering cupid with a devious smirk and a choir of singing angels while Shinji was just seeing navy. (Possibly due to his hair in the way of his eyes.) After the sudden cloud of surprise waned, the two finally had a chance to see just where they had landed.

"Fuji-san?" An said, startled.

"An-chan!" Fuji exclaimed.

"An-chan!" Oshitari exclaimed.

"Tachibana-san!" Saeki exclaimed.

"Tachibana-imouto!" Sengoku exclaimed.

"Ibu-kun!" Niou exclaimed. At least someone took notice of Shinji-who-was-sulking-and-mumbling-in-the-corner:

"Why are there queer people here without adult supervision? It makes it look all very suspicious and questionable because they could be doing illegal things like making drugs, though I don't think this is a drug house because it doesn't smell funny, and because they have weird red curtains and an orange sofa and strange lighting that kind of makes it look like a restaurant, only not really because I don't see any food, though I'm kind of hungry because I didn't get to eat much dinner because Kamio stole half of my burger even though I was clearly chewing on it when he yanked it from my mouth, so I only had two sodas because I took Kamio's after he took my food, and-"

"What is this place?" An asked, awed by the design of the interior. Shinji had already covered most of the basics.

"Host club, I think," Fuji said with a shrug. "We needed somewhere after what happened at The Café."

"Sorry your were fired," Sengoku offered sympathetically as he saw An recoiling into a gloomy mood once more. "Do you want cake or something?"

"I'll get it," Fuji offered, only to be quickly hauled back by the combined forces of Saeki and Niou.

"Didn't we agree that you are _not_ to go anywhere _near_ the kitchens?" Saeki hissed. Fuji looked downhearted by this comment. No doubt he thought he was a pretty decent cook by normal standards. Why, Yuuta was _so_ fond of his chocolate cheese fondue with a hint of garlic sauce and blueberry juice that collapsed in happiness after eating it. Not only that, but it was apparent it had magical properties as Yuuta claimed he saw their dead grandmother after consuming said chocolate cheese fondue with a hint of garlic sauce and blueberry juice.

"Alright," Fuji sighed with a sad smile. He brightened it when he turned to An. "Well, since you're our first costumer, you get first pick."

"Aren't you only in junior high?" An asked with suspicion. "How did you get this place and the license to work?"

"It's like An-chan says," Shinji mumbled from the corner. "It's all very shifty-looking and I doubt you guys could work anyhow, and even if you are allowed to your club will go out of business because you guys just aren't good-looking like me, and I wish there were more beautiful people in the world like me so I could associate with the because like I've said many times before I am a really good listener, and I don't even talk a lot and keep the things I shouldn't say to myself like how ugly this place is because it looks like a hamburger that's been sat on, which reminds me again of-"

"We've got everything legal covered," Oshitari said with a smirk. "And we only open on Sundays like these."

"-I'm hungry and I kind of want to eat a hamburger, but not that much because I think something lighter like soup would be better, though I don't like drinking miso soup at night because last time I hat miso soup at night, Kamio-"

"So where's everyone else?" An asked.

"Excuse me?" Niou asked with mocking politeness.

"I mean, where are the costumers and the rest of the people that work here?" An elaborated. A sickening silence descended upon the shifty five.

"-cat, because Echizen has that rowdy cat which has probably been harassing my precious Sakana because she's all agitated these days, and even though I would feed her her favorite exact-middle-of-a-tuna, she's still-"

"We're all here," Sengoku chuckled nervously. If he had a collar to pull on, he would've done so, but seeing as the gang was still in their uniforms from prior practice, it just wouldn't have had the same effect.

"You mean, this is it?" An gaped.

The five nodded.

"There's no one else?"

The five shook their heads.

"No one to do the dishes?"

The five shrugged.

"No one to clean up after costumers?"

The five formed 'X's with their arms.

"No one to supervise in case things get out of hand?"

"Um… no."

An huffed and then broke into a big grin. "Well, I work for 10,000 yen and hour." (It's probably wise to point out here, for Jenny's sake, that you could assume An's doing it for the money and not for the guys, just to be clear and so certain so-and-so's shouldn't be subjected to her wrath.)

"-and the pursuit of happiness, but Uchimura says it's French fries, though I don't think they had French fries back then, but they might've, but I don't think they had fast food chains back then either, which is kind of sad and-"

"6,000," Oshitari pressed.

"Fair enough."

* * *

This is where, due to the lack of imagination and creativity, we shall take a plunge into the future (though I swear by the five dollars and twenty-seven cents I have on my near right that I one day will fill in the hole). To be exact, it would be a frosty Monday, 16:04, December the 25th, and somewhere in the twenty-first century. (For this occasion, pretend they don't have families to spend Christmas with and are otherwise very civilized boys abiding to the law.)

"Who has the tinsel?"

"I have the tinsel!"

"Who has the chopsticks?"

"I've got them right here!"

"Who has my Christmas tree-shaped orange creamsicles?"

"…What?"

The host club, cleverly named The Deviant, (It was actually named S.N.O.F.S. until Atobe pointed out that the reason they might not be getting too many costumers because the name reminded certain people of a wad of dirty tissues, so down heartened, they were forced to change it else Atobe might've canceled his agreed half of the rent.) was a mess of Christmas ornaments and misplaced decorations from the ground up. As an honor to Atobe for help getting them their little place on the corner, (Oshitari _still_ refuses to say what he did to make Atobe spill so much dough) the S.N.O.F.S. Project (and An, reluctantly) decided to throw an exclusive Christmas party only opened to those who were invited. (Actually, Atobe more or less pressed the idea onto them.) Naturally, Atobe was a must, as 'Ore-sama would like to take this opportunity to extend his horizons and see how common people celebrate this holiday'. Sengoku invited Muromachi and Minami, Saeki invited Itsuki, Niou invited Yagyuu and Kirihara, and Fuji just broke all rules and invited the entire Seigaku team.

Of course, believe it or not, junior high tennis boys liked to gossip, as it will soon become apparent.

"Alright, I'm going now." Tacking on the last of the floral decoration, An let out a satisfied sigh and smiled with devious intentions before hopping down the stepladder and placed the hammer on the nearby convenient counter.

"You sure you don't want to stay?" Fuji asked sadly.

"I've got other plans," An said, slipping on her coat and proceeded to the door. Before exiting, she turned around and said, "Don't do anything stupid!"

"We won't!" the five promised, all with their fingers crossed behind their backs.

DING!

"Hey, Fuji, get the door," Niou mumbled through a tangle of tinsel. He was truly thankful that the tree was the last thing that needed to be done.

Fuji, abandoning his coil of silvery streamers, leapt towards the door with glee, curious to see who their first guests were. True, it was still a half hour or so before the party started, but Fuji didn't mind early arrivals, and neither did the others, it seems. He was prepared to see a hyper Kikumaru who couldn't wait the remaining half hour along with a sheepish Oishi whom the redhead dragged over, but was quite frankly astonished to see Kamio and Shinji.

"Th-th-this is where An-chan works?" Kamio screeched after a couple seconds of staring blankly. "Sh-sh-she works at a _host club_!"

"I was very surprised too, because usually An would have asked for a lower pay because she's a very humble person, but it seems like she likes it here, so I really don't think she'll have much trouble, though the guys that work here are kind of strange, like that guy from Hyoutei who-"

"Kamio-kun? Ibu-kun?" Fuji said, startled.

"… You!" Kamio stuttered, finally ripping his eyes off of the sign that read 'The Deviant' in fancy English font. "Wh-what's the meaning of this?"

"Oh, have you come for the party?" Fuji asked, totally oblivious. "You're a bit early, but I suppose I could let you in. I'm sorry it's still rather messy, but we'll have that cleared up right away. In the meantime, is there anything I can get you?" All spoken like a true host.

A few extra guests couldn't hurt, right?

Atobe's first impression of the club was that it looked like a few slabs of wood slapped together and held down by superglue and nails, but of course, the brilliance of his mansion(s) far towered over the simple craftsmanship of this little corner, so he decided not to judge the book by its cover and call in a pyro to have the place burned down and gracefully announced his presence with a dramatic entrance with much confetti, streamers, and even a short fanfare provided courtesy of special musicians he brought just for this occasion, but naturally he had them dismissed immediately. (How's _that_ for a paragraph-sentence?)

"I think Atobe's here," Saeki remarked as he placed a glass of tea in front of a distressed Kamio on the brink of having a mental breakdown. Shinji was doing his best to calm him, but his tactics didn't seem to have much effect.

"You're duty," Niou said simply as he gave Oshitari a push towards the door. With an exasperated look and a wry smile, Oshitari turned towards their guest of honor.

And the entire Hyoutei team.

"So _this_ is what you've been doing all this time, Yuushi?" Gakuto screamed in rage as he clawed onto the hem of Oshitari's shirt. Then he turned to glare at Saeki, Fuji, Niou, and Sengoku. "Which one of these is your wife?"

"Ore-sama demands the rightful service I am to be awarded," Atobe cut in impatiently. "One of you take my coat, and I don't care if you're pregnant with Oshitari's child or not."

Oshitari stared at the pair, Gakuto and Atobe, with a less than delighted expression. First he directed his questioning glare to the redhead, who gave a sheepish smile and a small blush as he shrugged his shoulder. The he turned to Atobe, (whose magnificent coat that probably totaled the yearly income of Ryuzaki-sensei and was currently being whisked off by a cheery Sengoku) who merely mouthed the words: "Word travels quick."

"Way to go, Oshitari," Shishido snickered. "Good thing you're dad's a doctor, right?" (Clarification on that needed.)

"I-"

DING!

"Fuji!"

And ecstatic Kikumaru shot pass the Hyoutei team and a dumbfounded Oshitari as he landed a delighted bone-crushing hug on the brunette, who nearly toppled over by the force. After the initial shock, Fuji broke out into a smile as he tried to as gently as he could pry Eiji off of his body.

"Nice to see you too, Eiji," he said politely as the boy finally relinquished his grasp. Fuji took this time to stare at his team with delighted eyes. "And all of you as well."

"F-Fuji!" Oishi stuttered as his eyes shot around the room in awe. "Y-You have a licensed to work here?"

"Where's the food? Where's the food?" Momoshiro exclaimed as he looked around eagerly. "Hey, Echizen, stop standing there laughing and help me look for food!"

"Mistletoe," was all Ryoma said as he pulled down on his cap with a smirk. There was an immediate whirl of chaos as everyone quickly scanned their perimeter for the dreaded Christmas ornament.

"Mistletoe? Who put up mistletoe?" Sengoku asked.

"None of us did," Niou said. "It was probably An."

"Don't say An-chan's name like that!" Kamio screamed as he shot up and stomped over to the man. He was appalled by the lack of honorifics, and especially when it came to An. He didn't know _how_ many times he was forced to say it to the world (though actually it's more like he was thinking it) that An was _his_… or soon to be… someday…

"Touchy, Akira. Heads up."

Paling at those words, Kamio tensely looked, and was just short of fainting when he realized what spruce of a certain something was tacked above his head. Niou laughed shrilly, and Kamio found out what true 'nightmare' was all about.

Insert

Swear

Here

* * *

The Rikkai team came in with a bang, literally. Not only does it turns out that Yanagi had to baby-sit Kirihara (as Yagyuu reasoned that he'd have enough on his hands handling Niou alone), the older boy ended up attracting their ever-concerned captain into it too, which only meant that the vice-captain would have to come, which would mean that the rest of the team felt obligated to accompany them. Niou wasn't very happy with the extra supervision, but decided that shoving Sanada into Shishido under the holiday plant would satisfy his hunger for revenge… for now.

Rokkaku seemed big on the whole 'team bonding' thing, so Saeki really couldn't refuse them all when they appeared at the door, and the five of them couldn't really object to the rest of the Fudomine team's presence as they owed ever-so-much to An. (Shinji made the call as he and Kamio were getting lonely.)

Oh yes, Yamabuki arrived… somewhere between the last two paragraphs.

"I thought this was a _private_ party!" Atobe growled unhappily at Oshitari, whom he snagged from amongst the crowd.

"It is," Oshitari insisted. "Well, it _was_."

Meanwhile, while Oshitari and Atobe were having a great time discussing their ideal party, Gakuto seemed to have found Kikumaru in the crowd of people, and immediately dove at him with force.

"You!" he shrieked with vengeance fueled by the evening's prior outburst from Atobe about Oshitari's wife. (Which needed to be vented on an innocent victim.)

"Ah! Get off of me!" Eiji wailed as he found an most unwanted Gakuto latched onto his waist and tumbled to the ground… right under the accursed plant.

"Mistletoe!" Fuji exclaimed in joy.

"AHHHH!!"

* * *

In the corner, Dan, Yanagisawa, Itsuki and Kabaji seemed to have found kindred spirits within each other.

"Everyone always criticize the way I speak dane," Yanagisawa sighed. "They just don't understand me at _all_ dane."

"You said it desu! Everyone always makes fun of how I talk, too desu! I don't get why because I sound _normal_, and so do you desu!" Dan replied understandingly.

"Nande? Nande?"

"_Usu_."

"_Desu_."

"Nande?"

"_Dane_."

* * *

In another corner on the opposite side, a large circle had formed with the central attraction being a deck of cards and two piles of various assortments of things. In one pile was the pot, which the winner took, though none of them placed down any real money, just random things of little value. In the other was a pile of scraps of folded notebook paper, which the loser took and was force to fulfill those requests. It would've been a lighthearted game without too much at stake, though ever since Niou, Sengoku, and Yanagi had taken seats, it had been an all out sprint for survival between the other seven players.

Currently, Niou was holding the lead, but Yanagi and Sengoku weren't far behind. Minami trailed the two of them by some margin, as well as Kurobane and Ryoma. Akutsu was hanging in there mainly because he scared the wits out of half of them, and the unfortunate Gakuto, Kirihara, Kikumaru, and David, who were obviously not good at the game, were left in the dust by the other players.

"I can't do it," Kikumaru sighed. "It's too hard nya!"

"Yeah, I agree!" Gakuto said. A shower of stares set his mind right. "I mean, I don't agree! I just think the same thing… yeah."

"You're obviously not good at lying," Ryoma muttered as he placed down two cards.

"Bologna!" Gakuto and Kikumaru screamed at the same time. (I'm sure we've all played that, haven't we? Or perhaps you've played a variant of it, like Ham, or Roast Beef.)

"Losers," Ryoma sighed. Why did he ever suggest this game in the first place? He kind of liked it back in the States, but now it seems better if someone had brought out the hanafuda cards.

"Split the pile," Yanagi said before anyone else had a chance to ask how it worked. The unhappy Gakuto and Kikumaru reluctantly did.

"I'll put down two sevens," Sengoku said.

"Bolgna!" David and Kirihara screamed in unison again.

"Ehehe… too bad for you guys."

"You four! Shut up before I –insert long array of colorful Akutsu-language here-"

After that, the four took care to when to yell out. Sometimes it was a good thing, others it wasn't as Sengoku with his supreme luck, Yanagi with his crazy memory, and Niou with his little devious ways that shan't be disclosed quickly whittled down their hands to only a few cards. Niou had one in possession while Yanagi and Sengoku each carried two.

"One two," Niou announced as he went to place his card on top of the clean table and claim victory. It was just his luck that it _somehow_ slipped from his nimble fingers and landed face up, revealing the queen of hearts.

"Bologna!" Kikumaru, Gakuto, Kirihara, and David screamed. Niou took his card back with a smirk. Yanagi was next.

"One three," Yanagi said. No one dared say anything against him.

"Eh? Lucky!" Sengoku exclaimed as he threw down his last two cards, both fours. "I win!"

"Awww!" The four-who-were-loosing-badly groaned.

"What kind of –bleep- game is –bleep- so –bleep- and –bleep-!"

"Tche…" Ryoma grumbled as he pulled down his cap and placed down his next cards. They've still yet to determine the loser.

And Minami and Kurobane who have gotten no dialogue simply played on.

* * *

In yet another corner, there gathered what was dubbed 'The Sophisticated', which was comprised of Atobe, Yukimura, Sanada, and Tezuka. The conversation was as followed:

"…"

"…"

"…(cough)…"

"… I'm getting punch…"

Very progressive conversation as you can see.

* * *

Meanwhile, in yet another place there was an odd group made up of Fuji, Marui, Yuuta, Mizuki, and Oshitari. While the Fuji-Yuuta-Mizuki tug-o-war was to be expected, Marui and Oshitari engaged in avid conversation about cooking on the same couch was not. (It was a very long couch for anyone who was interested.)

"So, Yuuta," Fuji began with a joyful smile. "How is school?"

"Fine," Yuuta replied quickly. It didn't pass Fuji's inspection. Mizuki made it even worse.

"Don't be shy, Yuuta-kun, go on and tell him."

"Huh? Excuse me, have we met before?" Fuji asked obliviously. "I'm Yuuta's favorite brother."

"You're my _only_ brother, Aniki," Yuuta mumbled, though it went unheard.

"My name is Mizuki," Mizuki stated, somewhat ticked off by Fuji's comment. "MIZUKI."

"Eh? What are you yelling for, Mitsuki-san?"

"**MI-ZU-KI**! _Not Mitsuki_!"

"Yuuta, is this person stalking you?" Fuji asked with a dangerous voice. "Don't worry, Aniki shall take care of him. Aniki shall _thoroughly_ take care of him."

"Aniki!" Yuuta wailed with despair. This happened every time. It was getting to the point where Yuuta was honestly starting to believe that his brother had partial amnesia towards his manager and that it wasn't all just a ruse to annoy him, (if it was, it certainly worked) but then again, that's impossible, right? While Yuuta pondered on this, the other two had engaged themselves in a heated glaring contest, creating a tense silence around the miserable Yuuta. It was so odd that the two people he could be happy around created him the most pain and gloom.

Silence…

Silence…

Silence…

"Hm? Really? I like basil in my curry, too."

"With the sauce on one side and the rice of the other as well?"

"Me too!"

Yes, very odd indeed.

* * *

"I… lost…?"

Ryoma was dumbfounded to say the least. He was also in shock, despair, and a great deal of trauma. Somehow he had lost to four idiots and an underage smoker/drinker/potential motorcyclist without a license, (and Kurobane and Minami) and now he faced the horror known as the fondly named 'Request Pile'. Ryoma knew they weren't simple requests, though. Nothing was simple with this lot.

"Alright," Minami announced, settling everyone down. He felt like he had an obligation to do that seeing as he was the only team captain here. "First request is from Kirihara."

Ryoma groaned.

"It says: 'Give me 1000 yen.'"

"What kind of request is that?" Kikumaru asked.

"Hey, it's a _smart_ one!" Kirihara snapped back. No doubt he knew he'd loose, so might as well earn some cash from it.

"Akaya, we agreed that no money would be involved," Yanagi told him. Kirihara melted back in a pool or grumbles and pouts.

"Next request is from Yanagi," Minami read off. "It says: Tell me _everything_ about yourself.'"

"…That's just creepy," Kurobane stated. "You sound like a… a stalker."

"You may tell me _everything_ about yourself, too, if you want," Yanagi offered with glinting eyes (or therefore lack of). Kurobane shivered.

"No thanks." He liked.

"Inui-senpai knows more about me than I do, probably…"

"Hmm… true."

That request was dismissed as well.

"Request from Sengoku: 'Find me a foreign girlfriend.'" Minami did a double take. "You're joking, right?"

"No I'm not!" Sengoku said. "I always wanted a cute girl whom I could take to amusement parks and the movies and whom I would share ice-cream cones with and maybe we can swap clothes too and-"

"Go –bleep- you –bleep-!" Akutsu grumbled, which roughly translates into: "That'll never happen."

"As your captain," Minami stated with authority. "I will not allow that to happen." Then after a few seconds of thought, he added: "Because it'll divert your from your tennis."

"Awww…" said Sengoku.

"I'm saved," mumbled Ryoma.

The rest of the requests were more or less annulled. Akutsu wanted to pound the loser to a pulp, David's was clearly a joke as he wanted a date with the loser, Kikumaru, believing that the loser would surely be Gakuto, wanted him to bow down before him and admit his faults, Gakuto's request was a near duplicate of Kikumaru's, Kurobane wanted the loser to do a handstand, which Ryoma avidly refused, and Minami simply put punch the person next to him, which wasn't hard as Ryoma already kind of wanted to punch Sengoku. So that left only Niou's request to be fulfilled.

"And Niou's request is to, whoa… Kiss the winner under the mistletoe."

"_What_?" Ryoma screamed, capturing the attention of not only the group but the entire room. This nightmare was not happening to him.

"So that's why you lost on purpose," Niou mused.

"Same for you," Yanagi returned.

* * *

"I think something has happened because there was a sudden, very loud scream coming from that kid in the cap there, who is the one who stole that grip tape from me even though I clearly saw it and had it first, but not, and even so, he shouldn't get to yell that loud even if he is the main character of the series, though I don't know why because I'm so much more interesting than he is and-"

"An-chan!!!"

* * *

"What's happening?" Yagyuu demanded of Niou. He knew that mischief was brewing.

"Look," Niou said simply as he pointed towards Ryoma and Sengoku, who were forcefully protesting with no avail.

"Niou…"

"Hey, what's going on?" Saeki asked as he popped over. He really wanted a break from serving everything, because it was apparent he was the only doing so.

"Look," Niou repeated.

"Huh? Wha-" Saeki paled. "You didn't!!"

"Ryoma! Ryoma! Ryoma!"

Ryoma grimaced. This was like a childish riot, and there was no way he was going through with it. He turned to leave, but was pulled back by _some_ kind of force, and then completely against his will (yes, COMPLETELY) was tossed head first into exactly (yes, EXACTLY) the last person he wanted to be tossed into.

There was screaming.

There was yelling.

There was once a very sad author who got rather sad and tired on Christmas day and decided to sign off with regrets until next time.

* * *

Merry Christ/X-mas, Kwanzaa, Hanukah, whatever new holidays that take place towards the end of December that I don't know about, and to all a good night!! (Wait, that's the day _before_ Christmas…) And yes, I'm well aware that this was rather rushed. (Insert appropriate emoticon here) 


	11. Incident 11

* * *

Incident Eleven

In which there is shopping

Chaos

And a proposal for marriage

* * *

For the first two months after The Deviant's grand opening, crowds of girls lined up squealing at the doors for a mere chance to catch one of the five 'incredibly gorgeous' boys that were rumored to spawn there in sporadic intervals. (Sounds like we're making them a rare species, doesn't it?) All seemed to be well for the guys, as they rarely had to do anything save sit there and look beautiful while An happily took care of everything else, and they even got paid in the hundreds. Though most of that went to Atobe, the five did find their extra pocket money enjoyable. Of course, pocket money is always better when spent, and oh did Fuji and Sengoku haul the lot shopping.

* * *

"What… what is that?"

"I'm not sure. It looks… Bohemian."

The group were having a fantastic time roaming the shops around the place, and one of their special finds was an off-to-the-corner (shady) thrift store that sold the most dazzling and quaintest things they're ever seen. They would've missed it had it not been for Sengoku's whimsical luck that led him to spy the grimy shop sign out of the corner of his eye. Now the five were having a blast going through the little trinkets that did the most outrageous things, at least, some were. Sengoku and Saeki were currently dissecting what appeared to be…

"Lace? Is this lace?"

"I don't know… maybe we should leave it, Sengoku."

"No way, this has to be a tea doily."

"A what?"

"The thing you put your teacup on! A tea doily!"

"Perverts, that's lingerie."

Niou snickered evilly as he watched Sengoku dropped his 'tea doily' blushing in deep red while Saeki just sort of looked away with a disturbed face, also tinted a rosy red. It was then through a muddled clutter aisle of junk Oshitari emerged with a grimace and an annoyed air about him. He looked at Niou, Sengoku, Saeki, the tea doily and let out an exasperated sigh.

"Niou," he grumbled in a scolding manner. "It's _definitely_ an iron-on clothing patch."

The three stared at him, then back to the newly dubbed iron-on clothing patch and then back to Oshitari before finally landing on Fuji who had appeared with an armful of treasures he had uncovered—golden rosaries, old cassette tapes, bisque dolls with cracked faces, plastic jewel necklaces… Fuji had them all. Now had his eyes planted sharply on the…

"Hair accessory," he exclaimed as he picked it up (somehow) and placed it rather lopsidedly on Saeki's hair. "Goes perfectly, doesn't it?"

"No, it doesn't," Saeki said as he promptly removed it. "It's definately a tea doily."

"It can't be, it's too delicate," Sengoku argued. Then he concluded. "I'm buying it."

"Suit yourself," the rest told him before migrating to the door as they watched Sengoku pay a dirt low price of ten yen for what the shop owner dubbed a floral ornament and Fuji dish out only a mere thousand yen for all of his junk turned treasures.

* * *

After the unexpected stop, the group headed off for their real purpose: gift shopping. With Valentine's Day right around the corner and five whole tennis teams to buy gifts for, there was nowhere better to do it than here in Tokyo. While it might've seemed like a girlish thing to do—buying gifts and all—the five more or less were doing it just to entertain themselves while contributing some love to their tennis club members. Strictly saying, no girls were involved, sadly.

They hit the biggest department store they could find themselves, and were now strolling along occasionally stopping at a nice little shop to look at some things. The mood was light, laughter filled the air about them, and everything was well with no hints of trouble about. Niou was smiling with no evil intents, Fuji was being pleasant, Sengoku was sane, Saeki remained sane, and Oshitari was just at peace with the world.

At least, that's how they hoped it would've been.

"Fuji!"

"Saeki!"

"I'll never let go!!!"

"Shut _up_, Niou!"

The floors were flooded with trampling shoes of all sorts. Pumps, sneakers, sandals, snow boots, and of course, tennis shoes. The five were trying their best just to stay together, though they were more of less being mobbed by a hoard of stampeding bodies. As a last desperate attempt, Fuji had tried to make a grab for them (somehow) and managed to clamp onto Saeki's hand in said desperate attempt, earning them much teasing from Niou, who remained in better shape than the others. Maybe it was do to him super ability to weave through crowds. Maybe it was his hair that was the turn-off. Maybe it was the fact that he was using Sengoku and Oshitari to shield himself. Who knows?

"We can't shop here!" Oshitari exclaimed.

"Of course we can't!" Sengoku screamed. "How are we supposed to find cute girls this way?"

Oshitari groaned as he grabbed Fuji with Saeki in tow, and somehow, miraculously, escaped through the doors. The five almost tripped onto the busy road in the process, but it probably would've done them less damage than the store. Niou appeared more or less fine, but the others found themselves in a state of disheveled disaster.

Fuji somehow managed to hang onto all his things, though his sweater he kept tied around him like a cape suffered some rips. Saeki had lost some buttons on his shirt, and Sengoku's hair was even more of a swirling mess than before. Oshitari probably suffered the worst, with ripped stitches, lost buttons, _and_ messed up hair. Needless to say, they weren't in the greatest of moods right then.

"Well, we know never to try that again," Fuji grumbled with a forced smile that said oh-so clearly that he wasn't amused the least bit. Saeki, Sengoku, and Oshitari offered their nods in agreement.

"I thought it was fun," Niou said nonchalantly, kicking a wayward pebble on the street. They were smart enough to avoid the major roads by now, knowing that they'd experience similar fates as they did in that department store if they tried that path. There weren't many others around them, only a few lovesick couples strolling along or confused foreigners having lost their way.

"Of course _you_ would," Oshitari scoffed. "But that isn't the problem right now."

"I never knew shopping was this rushed for Valentines Day," Saeki admitted.

"Of course _you_ wouldn't," Sengoku sighed. "You've never had a girlfriend."

"Sengoku, a lot of guys our age haven't," Fuji pointed out. A sigh of dejection echoed within the group. Here they were, five perfectly well ninth graders with good athletic backgrounds with good looks to match, and yet each and every one of them still single, and still buying Valentine presents for their friends and teammates. To sum it up in one word, it was _pathetic_, but what could they do when tennis was number one of their list of priorities?

* * *

In the end, that the only safe course that they knew of to take was to shop in places where there wasn't a surplus of screaming beings clawing at each other for their item of choice. However, that basically only left them with two options: shop at places with outrageous amounts of zeros tagged at the end of each price tag that probably only someone like Atobe could afford, or to shop at places that just aren't worth shopping at. Seeing how neither of them was really rich enough or would be willing to spend so many painful zeros on anything, their only option was to walk around town salvaging whatever little they could get out of it. Their venture eventually led them to the neighborhood fish market.

"You know, I doubt we'll find anything here," Oshitari stated simply.

"Oishi likes fish, though," Fuji mused.

"Does he like them raw, steamed, fried, or baked?" Niou asked with a straight face, causing Saeki to explode in laughter.

"I'm sure Oishi-san like's them _alive_," Saeki said, having heard countless tales about Oishi and his fishes from Fuji. Niou stared at him oddly, but turned away sheepishly after he realized what Saeki had meant.

"Anyhow, can we move on?" Oshitari muttered, not really sure he would be able to stand much more of the malodorous scent in the air without gagging. He respected the people who had to work in these conditions, he really did.

"Just as soon as I buy a fish," Fuji said as he scampered off.

"For Oishi-kun?" Sengoku called after him.

"For Karupin!" Fuji called back.

The four remaining just blinked after the Fuji-blurb that was now well concealed within the crowd. They weren't too concerned about finding him, as they were positive he'd surely come back. Actually, they would've gone after them had they not been dumbstruck by what he just said. Oshitari broke the silence and voiced their mutual silent question.

"Karupin?" he asked with a frown. "Who's Karupin?"

"Ah! I knew it! He has a girlfriend and he's hiding it from us!" Sengoku grumbled, clearly dejected that Fuji got a girl before he did. Man, did he wish he had a girl that loved him and made him lunch, especially the lunch part.

"He's buying his girlfriend fish?" Niou asked skeptically.

"She might… make it for dinner?" Saeki supplied lamely. Even he couldn't think of a better explanation, though he did think that this Karupin sounded familiar…

* * *

The next place they went was a candle store, which, for those who have never set foot in one, was most certainly not a place for the faint-hearted. While on the outside it looked like an inconspicuous place, inside the shop was a whole different matter, and unless you've mentally braved yourself, you'll surely be regretting ever entering… much like Sengoku and Niou right now.

"Can't… breathe…" Sengoku sputtered. Niou opted for silence, just in case he accidentally inhaled a whiff of the strongly concentrated candle store scent. (They should make it a trademark, really.)

"You've never been in one of these?" Fuji asked as he picked up a light green candle and took a cautious sniff. It smelled exactly like the candle store and all the candles in it.

"You periodically go into one of these?" Niou muttered before coughing up the head traumatizing smell that grips all newcomers. He could've sworn he just killed off a couple hundred brain cells right then.

"Older sister," The three chorused. "Get use to it."

"How do you get use to this!" Niou gasped. His head felt dizzy, almost like he was floating… No, not like, he _was_ floating. At least, that's what the influenced part of his mind said.

"Guys, I think I'm floating," Sengoku said airily. Niou silently swore. Looks like he wasn't the only getting brain damaged. "Help! I'm going to float away!"

"Sengoku, are you okay?" Saeki asked.

"That's a dumb question," Oshitari said. "Of course he's not okay."

"No, I think I'm floating, too," Niou said softly. The sane part of his brain screamed at how ridiculous it was for him to say that, but honestly, he really felt like he was about to fly away at any given moment.

"…We should get out of here," Fuji said. Oshitari and Saeki immediately grabbed Sengoku and Niou and bolted before they declared themselves in heaven (or hell).

They mutually and silently agreed that the next stop had to provide them with some sort of progress on their gift-hunting trip. After skipping over the electric lighting store, the locksmith's, and a store for the vision impaired, they finally settled on a small bookstore that looked relatively sensible, and would probably give them something better than fish and candles.

* * *

"Hey! Look! I found volume thirteen of Hana Yori Dango!"

Oshitari, who was in the process of fingering out a book, paused to give Sengoku a chuckle at his wild enthusiasm towards shoujo manga. He didn't care much for Sengoku fawning over that, (Fuji was taking care of that) and promptly turned back to the rather dusty volume he had retrieved from the shelf. It looked slightly worn and aged, but the words were still legible, and there was a sense of nostalgia that came from holding the book in his hands.

"Winnie-the-Pooh?" Oshitari grinned dryly as he felt the book snatched from his hands by Saeki, who was now avidly flipping through the pages with interest and confusion. "I read this when I was about three."

"You could read when you were three?" Oshitari asked.

"Well, my teacher read it to us," Saeki replied. Closing the volume, he handed it back to Oshitari. "Why? You getting that for someone?"

"Atobe," Oshitari said, and he could practically taste the surprise of the other.

"Well, whatever you say," Saeki said as he turned around to go observe Fuji, who was currently engaged in a heavy volume about the art of sushi making. However, he hadn't taken three steps before Oshitari intervened.

"You know, I like you," Oshitari said shamelessly. "You mind your own business and don't nag. It's quite refreshing, actually."

Saeki turned around to give Oshitari a startled look—his eyebrows furrowed and his lips in a slight frown. While he was sort of flattered that he wasn't a nag, it was nonetheless still sort of weird, especially since he never pictured Oshitari to be the type to say such things. That and it was totally out of the blue. Oshitari, on the other hand, could really care less that what he said was borderline dumb. It might've been due to the less than normal day, or Gakuto's calls at three a.m., he didn't know. Oshitari just merely stared back, and before either of them knew what they were hooking themselves into, an all out staring contest had ensued.

"What are you guys doing?" Sengoku asked. "Look, we have to go now because Fuji just knocked down a bookshelf, and the owner doesn't look happy."

"And unless you want to indulge yourself in unwelcome physical labor, you two will know that the door is that way," Niou added. Now it was their turn to grab the two and bolt while Fuji tottered after in desperate attempt to escape the wrath of the bookstore owner.

"Honestly, they should make more stable shelves," Fuji muttered. "It should've at least been able to withstand me leaning against it."

'Course, Fuji's definition of 'leaning against' might be synonymous with leisure relaxation against said shelf, or head-on tackling it with intent to wedge in a book that was obviously not suppose to belong there.

* * *

It was apparent after that incident that gift shopping was not an easy task, and before Fuji and Sengoku could drag them to the nearest pet store, the other three called it quits and decided to opt for the traditional offering of candy and other various food items. So after a day of scurrying around, the only one who really profited was Fuji with his mass array of trinkets galore and… a fish.

Oh, yes, there was also Sengoku's tea doily, but that hardly counted, now.

* * *

"Yuushi! Yuushi! I made cookies!"

Oshitari had to employ all of his willpower not to spit out the water in his mouth and make an absolute fool of himself in front of the tennis club, though Gakuto was more or less taking care of that department. The boy really didn't know just what to think when the other appeared dressed with a happy grin and a heart-shaped box that presumably contained said baked cookies. At first, he wanted to laugh, but then decided that groaning might've been better as everyone's eyes were now tacked on the two of them.

"Gakuto…" Oshitari muttered softly.

"Eat them, eat them!" Gakuto screamed as he shoved the box underneath Oshitari's nose. "This will _prove _that I'm a better baker than your wife!"

"Gakuto, I don't have a wife," Oshitari groaned as he ran his fingers through his hair. At first he just thought it was a joke of some sort, a running gag that Gakuto wanted to keep going, but now staring at his friend with fiery eyes intent on feeding him… whatever it was that he made, Oshitari was rather… scared.

"Wife, Oshitari? And I wasn't invited to the wedding."

"Oh, Atobe," Gakuto said.

Atobe emerged onto the scene, obviously disturbed by the lack practicing and the excess of staring. Kabaji flanked his right, surprisingly empty-handed save for the usual tennis bags. Oshitari had expected a plethora of Valentines overflowing from a sac accompanied by boxes of chocolate and the occasional stuffed animal.

"No confessions?" Oshitari prodded.

"We're in junior high, Oshitari, I beg you remember that," Atobe barked. "And the rest of you! Stop staring and continue with practice!"

At the snap of their king's fingers, the rest of the club clicked back into gear, leaving Gakuto and Oshitari to face their captain, who looked quite distressed today. His hair seemed flared and wilder than before, there were heavy bags under his eyes along with a morbid aura surrounding him. His mouth was scrunched into a grisly frown and his arms were crossed tightly across his chest. Something must have happened, probably on the down side.

"Something happened," Oshitari said bluntly, getting straight to the point. "You look horrible."

"I know that," Atobe said dryly. "You look fine yourself."

"Thank you," Oshitari said sarcastically. "But if we go on like this, we won't get anywhere, would we?"

"Where do you want to go?" Atobe said. "Because I'm not going."

"Well, this is a first. You're playing along, how wonderful," Oshitari said in the same tone.

"We should be playing tennis."

"But we aren't."

"I don't want to."

"Now, what _did_ happen?"

"Nothing happened."

"But you always want to play tennis."

"Not today."

"What happened?"

"I'm not saying."

"Tell me."

"You're a worthless nag, Oshitari."

"And you're being a difficult scrooge."

"…"

"…"

"… Eat my cookies…"

* * *

Sengoku was perhaps the most excited about the day out of the five. He woke up early in contrast to usual, made an attempt to straighten his hair out with no avail, and even ate breakfast at the table. All in all, he was hyped for the day to come, though simply put, after four failed confessions and a less than dazzling test grade, he wasn't feeling too good.

And then, Fuji waltzed in, a good omen, perhaps.

"Oh, cheer up. I'm sure you'll find someone eventually."

The two were lodged up in the corner of The Deviant, sipping on milk tea and nibbling on cake while discussing the events of the day. An was around somewhere, probably sweeping or washing dishes with Sakuno, whom she had invited into the fun. Why the two would be so fascinated in such activities, the guys didn't want to know, or even guess. As far as they were concerned, as long as they picked up their mess, they wouldn't be complaining.

"But when?" Sengoku moaned as he collapsed into a puddle of misery on the table. "When?"

"Well…"

"It said I should find my one true love around now, but I haven't!" Sengoku whined.

"It?"

"A book about love and fortunes," Sengoku said. "It's really accurate, too."

"Would it be a medium-sized book in blue binding with silver stars on the cover and…"

"Eh? You've read that, too?" Sengoku said, surprised that they shared a common interest. "Isn't it amazing? I wish it worked with me like it did with you and whoever that Karupin girl is."

"Oh, yeah, sure…"

And we'll leave Fuji being vague.

* * *

Saeki's Valentine's Day was like any other day in his book. The sun was shining, the flowers were (metaphorically) smiling, and the birds were chirping happily. All was good and well, with nothing out of the norm. Yes, Saeki was having a lovely Valentine's Day. The only thing different was that there was a small gift exchanged at practice, where he received a scarf, but aside from that, it was undoubtedly a normal, fine, and perfectly well day. That's enough said, for now.

* * *

Niou's Valentine's Day was too much of a scream to be recounted here.

* * *

I.G.D.P.O.L.F. XIII

Chronicle X

* * *

When Fuji first opened his eyes, he found himself staring at a fabulous diamond zipper that glistened magnificently in the light. He blinked again, and regained the tingling feeling that indicated his arms and legs were out of function. Then he blinked again and realized what had happened to him prior to his awakening. A feeble groan escaped his lips, a sad attempt to form words. It was enough to get the attention from the others, however, and suddenly he felt himself jostled and then plummeting to the ground.

"You've dropped him."

"I couldn't help it! He made a noise!"

"That's what normally happens when someone wakes up."

"I never wanted to be his pillow in the first place."

"We couldn't put his head on ice, though, now could we?"

"Nnnnn…"

Shortly following another unsuccessful attempt to form words, Fuji felt his limp body being carefully lifted off the cold floor, which he was very grateful for. From what his blurry vision could register, the room was crystal-like with great chandeliers lighted in an eerie blue fire along with glittering pillars of ice that shot up at odd angles. He wondered briefly if he had arrived at the inner sanctums of hell, but shortly dismissed that as short bursts of sanity came shooting back and his body being bathed in warmth.

Maybe just a little too warm, actually.

"Niou! You're burning him!"

_Niou? Why is he here? What is he doing? Please don't tell me he's actually a cannibal and is preparing me for dinner._

"Sorry, sorry."

"So, what do we do about our contract?"

"I already said we change his name, didn't I?"

"But how do we do that?"

"You ask too many questions, Ryoma."

_Ryoma? As in, Ryoma-who-he-tried-to-rescue? Is he a victim, too?_

"You guys don't give me any answers!"

"Well, use your brain. How do you change one's name?"

"I don't know. Get it lawfully approved?"

"You've got to be kidding me. _Lawfully approved_?"

"Well, you're on the right track. Keep going."

"What? I don't get it."

"Dense! Dense!"

"Quiet, Sengoku."

_Sengoku? What's going on, here? Have they all turned into cannibals?_

"Wait, you're not suggesting…"

"Marriage, right. Let's stop the guessing because I'm sick of listening to you ramble on."

"Don't talk to him like that, Atobe."

_Atobe? Who's Atobe? _

"B-but how are you going to do that? I mean, Oshitari's a _guy_, right?"

"Soon it's going to be 'was', thanks to my newest invention."

"Inui juice?"

_Inui? Did someone mention Inui? Is he preparing the seasoning?_

"Even better. Magical Chemical 3.8."

* * *

Wow, that took long to finish, not to mention it was kind of rushed and improvised. Hopefully it'll be cleaned up a bit next chapter. 


	12. Incident 12

Just so I make it clear, 'appetized' is not a real word, and Valentine's day is long past, isn't it? My bad, sorry.

* * *

Incident Twelve

In which Marui is kissed

Kirihara was almost kissed

And Fuji narrowly avoided being kissed

* * *

Marui liked his cakes sweet but his gum slightly sour. However, when blended into one puddle of a sticky, mushy mess, he found himself less than appetized. In fact, he was rather disgustedly, dreadfully, dazedly, and despairingly disturbed. His gum was sour as ever, but that pinch of sugar just made everything go wrong. Very, very, horribly, horribly wrong.

"W-what…" Marui was breathless. "W-what the _hell_ was that?"

"Happy Valentine's day, Bun-Bun-chan." Niou was cringing like crazy as he let those words roll off his tongue with an elegant sigh that topped off the perfect scene. He felt no shame, and if he did, he did pretty well in hiding it. Perhaps it was the expression of pure shock blended with shear horror on the boy's face that made everything worth it, or perhaps it was the pale onlookers that shrank away with horrified looks. Either way, Niou felt thoroughly satisfied with his Valentine's Day.

"…Tastes like green apple…" the Trickster noted as he sauntered off looking for Yagyuu.

* * *

Fuji was bored.

The week was proving dreadfully monotonous and dull, probably due to the showers that didn't allow tennis practice to occur. He felt restless when he wasn't on the court, and nothing could take his mind off of the sport, not even when Eiji invited him over to play video games with Ryoma. Though he found some joy in watching the young boy squirm under pressure, it still wasn't enough to satiate his new hunger for something… something… something like that approaching figure coming his way right now.

"Saeki!" Fuji exclaimed.

"Fuji!" Saeki returned in equal enthusiasm. Though it was raining a fair good deal, neither hesitated in instantly retracting their umbrellas as they ran towards each other. They stopped once they realized that they didn't have any shelter to take under in the other.

"I thought we were going to share your umbrella like we did way back when," Fuji pouted, which made all good sense seeing how he hadn't been able to pull of this attitude for a while.

"But didn't we use to share yours?" Saeki asked. The two just stood there looking at each other with quizzical looks all the while getting very much soaked—not that they really cared now—and sheepish smiles before finally realizing:

"Ah! We shared _Yuuta's_ umbrella!"

* * *

"More sugar? Cream? Anything?"

The Yamabuki player was happy, no, he was more than happy, he was absolutely delighted. What he found loitering around with a rather lost and confused look on his face was an object that can only be described as fascinating. With drops of rain riddled in his curly black locks, his cheeks of rosy hue, and his lips formed into a slight frown as tiny spurts of whines escaped them, the teen seemed to resemble a little kitten having had lost its way on its sneak visit to the fish market. A kitten that could bite and scratch you for the better of it that is. Of course, Sengoku wasn't the least bit intimidated. In fact, he was very much overjoyed to have spotted the boy in an overwhelming crowd. (Praise to his eyes. Oh how he loved them so.) So without much more reason, Sengoku had scrambled to his object of interest in a flash, and before the boy knew what was really happening, he had unwillingly found himself seated in a pleasant little café a ways from the main stream of people, having a cup of coffee and a slice of strawberry cheesecake with the last person he had expected in the world.

"I'm fine, really," Kirihara Akaya insisted, suppressing the very strong urge to sigh and grimace. What was the guy's name again? Lucky… something… eh… He seemed vaguely familiar, but the only thing he could recall about the other was that he was from Yamabuki from the green and yellow jacket he was wearing. Kirihara stole another look at him, hoping that some more fragments may surface and he wouldn't feel like he was sitting with a stranger in a café. To sum it up, Sengoku looked like a sort of demented leprechaun from a children's picture book, orange hair and all. Kirihara shook his head as he went back to poking at whatever kind of pastry was on his plate. It looked like some sort of cake, only as far as he knew, cakes weren't suppose to be orange and purple, were they? His brain whirled as he thought back to all those times Marui brought some kind new cake or dessert to practice, only to find it rather blank or in very minimal detail. However, he did remember something blue, and another one that looked like it was half decayed, but his sempai had insisted that it was some kind of foreign delicacy. Yeah, like Kirihara would ever want to eat mold.

His eyes then lifted themselves from the table, filled with delicate arrays of blue China, (it was a very sophisticated place) and found his gaze directed at the pattering rain outside. He wondered briefly how buying daikon radishes and leeks for his mother turned into such an encounter. It's not that it was entirely unbearable to be with Sengoku, it was just… strange. Yeah, that was it, strange. Very, incredibly strange.

"Kiri-chan? Kiri-chan? Hello? Are you alright? Kiri-chan?" Kirihara's train of thoughts skittered to an abrupt stop as he snapped back into reality. The first image his eyes digested as he turned his head around on instinct were two round orbs of bluish green, peering down on him, and occasionally… blinking? Kirihara drew a tight breath as his brain realized what the two objects were: Sengoku's ever-curious eyes.

_Damn…_

"What. Are. You. Doing." Kirihara said stiffly, emphasizing every word down the letter. His lips were in a scowl, and his hands were clenched onto the edge of his seat so hard that his knuckles had turned white. Needless to say, Kirihara had never been so… physically _close_ to anyone before. Sengoku, however, didn't even catch a whiff of the tension in the other teen, his legs still propped up on the chair and his chin still rested on his hands, body leaning over to the other. It was then, up close, that Sengoku noted many of the finer details of the person seated across from him.

Kirihara looked like an elf; that's what Sengoku decided. His eyes were sharp and piercing, and of a color something deeper than emeralds. His face was pointy in a sense, and so were his ears, which looked like something you'd find attached to one of Santa's little helpers. At this, Sengoku couldn't resist a smile. Right. If Kirihara were one of Santa's little helpers, then all the children in the world may have as well just given up and Christmas as they probably would've been bombarded with disjointed doll parts, broken pieces of chu-chu-trains, or huge lumps of cold, hard coal. Someway or another, Kirihara would've found his way into Santa's' stash with that conniving little mind of his. But Christmas wasn't just all about the presents and gifts, right?

"But Kiri-chan, you're so _cute_!" Sengoku squealed, and much to Kirihara's dismay, the lucky little leprechaun extended a slim hand to his cheek and started pinching it. _Pinching it_, like some old grandmother would do after they've hopped across the pond known as the Atlantic and are just so overjoyed to see you that their first gift to you is a sore cheek. Kirihara did not enjoy it one bit, though he couldn't exactly say he wasn't use to it. Niou had just _insisted_ on giving him birthday pinches, and his cheeks still screamed in agony at just even thinking of that experience. (Though it was nothing compared to the obligatory Birthday Smooch that Niou was intent on giving everyone. Now that Kirihara thought about it, his teammates sucked at giving gifts. The stick. Kirihara still remembered the stick.)

"_What. Are. You. DOING_?!" Kirihara hissed dangerously as he tried to scoot his chair back, only to find that it was one of those places where they had none sliding chairs in order to prevent you from scraping the floor into a mess of streaks and lines. (So convenient) Helpless, the little elf was trapped as Sengoku initiated cheek torture on him. Kirihara thought this was all very unfair as not only was he unable to dodge out of it, he couldn't even hit him in public because Sanada was getting tired of having hospital bills sent to him courtesy of Kirihara's wrath.

"But Kiri-chan elf! Didn't you ever know you and I, Sengoku leprechaun, are practically related?" Sengoku insisted as he pointed to himself, his other hand still poking around Kirihara's face, and a couple of times nearly missed his eye. No, don't want to damage those jewels. After all, how many emeralds do you know can turn ruby red? Kirihara looked at the said leprechaun with a face splashed with pure horror. The person in front of him was like a Niou clone or something, or maybe it was the original? Kirihara shuddered. He couldn't even imagine what life would be like with two Niou personalities floating around. One was more than enough. Yes, way more than enough.

… Little did Kirihara know that there were _four_ other Niou personalities floating about out there, including the guy himself. Life's a bitch to you…

* * *

Oshitari was in dismay. He had, once again, been dragged to Atobe's mansion and was now forced to sit through another psychology session with his captain. Though there were no coffee and garden hose this time, there was, instead, iced tea and showerheads, but that will come when it comes. Currently, the two were holding a civilized (or as civilized as the two can get) conversation about the only civilized topic they could touch upon: tennis. And, of course, you know that when talking to Atobe about tennis, there's bond to be a certain somebody (or somebodies) that always managed to pop up in the subject.

"I don't get it," Atobe muttered, forehead planted deep into his palm with silky tendrils of hair falling around his face. "I just don't get it."

"Atobe…"Oshitari sighed helplessly. He wanted to say something that would be the equivalent of a slap to the other, but no matter how he churned his brain, he just couldn't think of any string of words to sum up his emotions right then.

"It's so… so thrilling facing him. I get excited every time, and my heart's pounding with eagerness, yet… I know I can shine brighter than them, but… I just can't seem to… to…"

"Uh-huh… and how does this make you _feel_?" Oshitari asked with a smirk. He felt like a psychologist right then, asking questions to which he didn't want half the answers. Yet Atobe didn't seem to catch the spoonful of sarcasm Oshitari had dumped into his words, and let out an agitated growl as he shook his head in agitation.

"I don't know. I feel excited, yet a bit scared as well, and… a bit anxious I suppose," Atobe said. Oshitari merely nodded as he wondered if this emotional wreck in front of him was really Atobe. "What does it mean, Oshitari? What does it mean?"

Oshitari was slightly taken aback at this. As he chewed thoughtfully on his straw, he wondered whether he should tell Atobe what he wanted to hear, or what he himself wanted to hear. He decided that since there was nothing to burn his pants this time, it gave him free passage to entertain himself a little bit.

"It means," Oshitari began as he finished the last of his tea, "you're in love."

* * *

"You're in love?"

It was by chance that Saeki and Fuji should happen to stumble across Hiyoshi Wakashi. They found him sulking on the stairs that lead to the street tennis courts, drops of rain sliding down his auburn tendrils, and eyes heavy as fog. Had it not been for his tennis bag, the two would've passed on by, not knowing that this sad figure had came from the proud Hyoutei team. Of course, they did realize, which was really what was important, and after seeing his disasterifical (which, mind you, isn't a word at _all_) state, the two just simply couldn't walk away.

Well, actually, Fuji considered doing so as he didn't really care much about the boy, but Saeki simply couldn't leave anyone dripping wet, miserable, and alone in the cold rain. Dragging Fuji by the arm, Saeki approached him with a concerned gaze. Naturally, since Saeki hardly knew him at all, it would've been improper to simply go up and demand what put him in such a devastating state, so precaution was to be attended to:

"It's none of my business, but whatever it is, Hiyoshi-kun, I hope you feel better about it."

Fuji was appalled. It wasn't because Saeki had dished out a completely Oishi-mother-like comment, but it was because he had offered their umbrella. (Well, actually it was Yuuta's whom they stole it from a while back as he so conveniently walked down the street. "Look, Yuuta! Instead of your umbrella, you now have the two of ours! ) Though Fuji desperately made apparent efforts to snatch it back, it was all in vain, and then that Hiyoshi had the _nerve_ to actually accept it! And that mumble surely couldn't have been a thank you, could it?

And now, thirty… four minutes later, they were seated in the corner of the Deviant trying to counsel the poor soul that had been drained of his passion towards life and all things in existence. While Saeki might've found this all to be fun and games and delightfully amusing, Fuji was a little less than enthusiastic about the whole idea. He didn't hold any sort of grudge against Hiyoshi, but he'd rather not be stuck inside on a rainy day listening to dramatic love tales, no matter how enticing he found them in over-the-top nightly television dramas he watched with Yumiko.

"And then, when I finally got there, she wasn't there anymore, but inside with another man. I fail at life…"

"Don't say that, Hiyoshi-kun. If she had the nerve to do that to you, then she doesn't deserve you," Saeki said. Then he added in a barely audible tone, "I think…"

"That's right, Hiyoshi-kun," Fuji began in a honey-sweet tone. Upon further inspection, one would find its core was of resentment. "You just go see her and explain it all. Preferably… now."

"Now?" Hiyoshi asked, genuinely surprised.

"Yes, _now_," Fuji replied.

Before Hiyoshi could really respond to what was happening around him, he found himself booted out the door by a smiling Fuji waving giddily behind him with a sharp twinkle in those blue-blue eyes. Hiyoshi opened his mouth as if you say something, but the door was already closed and the blinds drawn and Hiyoshi was left in utter stupor. First his girl rejected him, and then his tennis peers rejected him. What was next? Rejection by his family? Hiyoshi couldn't take it anymore. He couldn't take the drama, the pain, the fears, the _rejection_.

So he got up and went to an ice-cream parlor to drown his misery in the only thing that could possibly understand the melancholy that plagued his lonely, lonely heart.

"Fuji, why did you do that?" Saeki exclaimed, shocked by the actions of his friend. Fuji merely frowned. "I'm going after him."

"Why?" Fuji asked, his eyes solemn and lips arched down. Saeki felt a spark run down his spine. His Fuji-Senses told him that the boy wasn't particularly happy, and his Fuji-Senses were always right.

"Are you… jealous?" Saeki asked, an uncharacteristically devious smile creeping up his lips. Fuji promptly looked away, brunette locks swishing at his abrupt turn.

"Hmph!"

* * *

I.G.D.P.O.L.F. XIII

Chronicle IX

* * *

It was about several hours later that Fuji was finally able to fully get his body to function properly like he wanted to. As soon as he felt his power fill up within him and his senses renewed, he promptly flung away the raggedly blanket that was carelessly flung over his body and rose into the middle of the room releasing all the excess stress and frustration that had built up within him. He heard the columns of ice creak and crack, and considered briefly if he should topple the whole manor down, but quickly pushed that thought aside. Not only would Oshitari have been incredibly put off, but Fuji would've been incredibly drained after the effort and Oshitari would've probably had some incredible punishment in store for him. Fuji shivered uncontrollably at the horrid thought. Last time they played 'Punishment', Fuji was mentally crippled for the next three years, and his was _nothing_ compared to the century A.W.O.L. Niou had received.

He forcefully composed himself and landed in the middle of the room and curled up into a ball. Fuji didn't like the cold. It was bitter, it did terrific madness to your nerves and it made Fuji feel helplessly lonely and alone… which he was…

Just when Fuji had begun to feel the first shivers crawl through him, he felt the room suddenly warm up. At first it was very subtle, but soon, the entire room was melting into a huge puddle, leaving Fuji very confused and very, very wet. If it weren't for the fact that he'd create a whirlpool, he'd begin swishing the water around right then to keep himself dry. As it turned out, he didn't even need that as the room soon became very tropical and extremely steamy with plants and all. He was now seated in at least a feet of water, and he honestly couldn't take it anymore.

"Niou, stop it," he demanded softly, as he knew the boy could hear. As soon as the words escaped his angry lips, the Trickster appeared in from of him through the smog, baby fireballs dancing on each of his fingers.

"Syusuke," he chided, looming over him looking very much like the ruler of Hell. His grin was crooked and wide and his eyes were burning with mischief. Fuji cringed.

"What is this?" he asked, voice low and quivering. Fuji was not happy at all. His eyes were glaring and bright through the mist, and the swishing of water as Niou approached made it all the worse… and _damn_ he really needed to go to the bathroom…

"This?" Niou asked innocently as he encircled his arms around the boy, who shuddered at his grasp. "This is hell."

"And what are you?" Fuji asked.

"Me? I'm-"

"He's Niou, and if Niou doesn't relinquish the angel soon, Niou will get condemned to _hell_."

Fuji brightened at the voice. Now here was someone that could supply him with some answers and probably mix him a cup of decent cocoa at the same time. Turning his head towards the source, Fuji was delighted to see Saeki crawl through an over-growth of floral, eyes slightly irked, but seemingly delighted at the presence of the brunette. Fuji offered a smile, which Saeki returned with an exasperated but relieved grin.

"And who will be the one sending me there?" Niou retorted, sticking his tongue out at Saeki as he hugged the frail Fuji closer to him. "You weren't about to say, "I am", were you?"

"Actually, I was going to say that."

Fuji stifled a gasp as he saw Fabulous Diamond appear behind Saeki, the splitting image of perfection. At first sight, Fuji felt his status as an angel threatened by his awesome brilliance. While he seemed like he would be one to be singing in the angelic choir, this man seemed apt to be god himself. Perhaps, Fuji thought, that that was why this person was II and he was III. Jealousy instantly melted into curiosity and infatuation.

"Fine, take him," Niou mumbled as he pushed a thoroughly soaked Fuji into the grasps of Atobe. Though Fuji was glad away from the explosive temperatures of Niou, he found them much more agreeable than the icy grip of Atobe. The man, handsome and angelic he may be, was definitely not a warm creature, and Fuji felt his soaked clothes immediately brittle after five seconds in the arms of II. Saeki rescued him from being frostbitten.

"Saeki?" Fuji said softly, breathing in his friend's lovely scent of freshly washed clothes. … Mmm… lavender laundry detergent… and mint.

"Yes?" Saeki answered, patting the boy on the back.

"What's happening?" Fuji asked darkly.

"Oh, you'll see soon, very soon…"

* * *

Saeki made the best cocoa, Fuji decided. It was almost good enough to make the crystal room seem a few temperatures warmer than it actually was… but that wouldn't really have made a difference. He noticed that the others around him didn't seem to be too badly effected by it, though it was undeniable that they stared at his cocoa in pure envy, especially Sengoku who made several not-so-subtle attempts to try and take it away from him.

"Ne… Fuji-kun," he whined as he inched close to the boy. "We've been friends for oh… more than a millennium now, haven't we?"

"Well…"

"Can I have a sip of that? Just a little bit?" he pleaded, eyes wide and watery, feigning innocence and seeking pity. Fuji knew him well enough to know that 'a little bit' would rob him of his wonderful cocoa, and Fuji would really rather hog it all to himself. It was warm, smooth, chocolaty, thick, and overall incredibly delightful and put him into a dazed and dreamy mood that made the freezing cold room _almost_ bearable. Maybe that's why Sengoku was so desperate for a bit of its heavenly goodness.

Noting the boy's hungry and jealous eyes, Fuji spared all slow enjoyment he had planned with his drink and hastily downed the whole cup in one gulp. Sengoku watched in horror as the boy gave a satisfied sigh, no doubt from the tingling warmth that was spreading from his delighted stomach. Fuji soon caught onto how broken he had set the boy up with that act, and gave a sheepish smile.

"Sorry, none le-"

"Sengoku, you can kiss him later, we have more important things to discuss."

"Right, like how we can finally go to heaven and all that crap?" Niou grumbled as he drew a facsimile of the wretched Contract in the frigid air with grey smoke.

"Yes, and 'all that crap'," Atobe said sarcastically. "Everyone, listen to what Inui has to say."

"As Atobe was saying before, but I'll clarify for those of you who weren't here to hear it," he nodded towards Fuji. "As you know, the contract dictates that we shall 'faithfully serve our lord, the Great Devious Oshitari Yuushi. Of course, that means it only applies to 'Oshitari Yuushi'."

"You can't mean…" Fuji began, bright blue eyes locked onto the boy in a curious, inquiring manner. "But there's not way we can change his name."

"Strike one, two, three, you're out. Bang!" Niou laughed as he blasted a nearby ice column. Atobe glared at him. "I'm bored, Keigo-chan!"

"Anyhow," Inui went on, clearing his throat as he demanded everyone's attention. "There is a way."

"Really?" Fuji piped. "Do tell."

"With this," Inui announced, whipping out a glass vial filled with ominous glowing liquid. "We can alter his gender…"

"… and get him married," Fuji said slowly, piecing it together. His eyes grew wide. "But how do we get him to fall for it? And ever then, who would marry…"

A great moment of thoughtful thoughts took place right then, only to be broken by Atobe's voice:

"It can't be one of us. It'll be too obvious."

"Then who?" Ryoma piqued, speaking for the first time. "There isn't anyone for miles, and we can't even be seen unless by humans unless they realize we exist!"

"Well, actually," Inui said, pushing up his glasses, "If it's a certain someone we're looking for, I know just the one."

"Really now?" Atobe said suspiciously. "And how come you didn't inform me of this earlier?"

"I thought we would concentrate on one thing at a time," Inui shrugged. "I don't think the love issue would be a big deal since I've found the perfect match, but getting Oshitari to actually drinking down the formula…"

"I'll handle that," Atobe said.

"But who's this person?" Saeki asked.

"Oh, I just happened to find him wandering around the perimeter yesterday night," Inui said. "Someone whom I'm sure we all miss very much."

There was a shocking silence as everyone but Ryoma's face drained of color. Even Niou, who was rarely was fazed, was dead silent with a stupefied look plastered to his face. There was the faint, unmistakable dripping of melting ice in the room, which made the situation all the more ominous. Ryoma began to feel rather uncomfortable. When his senpais were silent, that means something dramatic had back in the days when Ryoma had yet to join.

"You can't mean…" Sengoku began slowly.

"It can't be…" Saeki muttered.

"There's no way…" Niou picked up, shaking his head slowly but surely.

"No way he's alive…" Fuji said softly.

"Mukahi Gakuto…" Atobe sighed as he buried his face into the palm of his right hand.

"Reincarnated in the flesh," Inui said smirking.


End file.
